


Monster Within

by toobusy2write



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Glam Rock RPF, Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toobusy2write/pseuds/toobusy2write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After spending decades trapped by a curse and hiding from the world, Adam meets someone who changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Additional Warning** : Graphic description of bodily injury in one place  
>  **Disclaimer:** Not mine, not for profit...just borrowing them to get the plot bunny that invaded my brain to shut up already.  
>  **Beta'd by:** vlredreign  & aislinn  
>  **For:** [Glam Reverse Big Bang](http://glam-reverse-bb.livejournal.com/)  
>  **Setting:** Except for the beginning scene, which takes place at an earlier point in time, the bulk of the story is set in an AU version of 2008.
> 
>  **Artwork:** The gorgeous artwork that inspired this fic is by moodwriter and you can find it [**here**](http://moodwriter.dreamwidth.org/20783.html). From the first time I saw it, it grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go. Go, check it out and leave her some love!
> 
>  **Special Thanks:** To moodwriter, whose artwork gave shape to a vague story idea that had been knocking around in my head for a while, refusing to take form. And to my betas, vlredreign  & aislinn, who are both rockstars for beta'ing this in a matter of days for me, and for putting my many insecurities concerning it to rest. Love you all! <33333
> 
>  **Author's note #1:** Beauty and the Beast was in the back of my mind while I was writing this. It's not a re-telling by any means, but it does have that feel to it, just so you know.  
>  **Author's note #2:** Since I didn't see an option for posting a prologue by itself on a chapter story, I put it in with the first chapter.

  
  
  


### Prologue

  


_Rocky Mountain range, New Mexico, 1975…_  
 

The sound of breathing—his breathing—was the first thing to penetrate the fog in Adam's head. In, out. In, out. Over and over. And then came the pain. Gut-wrenching, searing pain like he'd never felt before. 

And still… 

In. Out. Never stopping, never even pausing, no matter how much he wished in that moment that it would. 

Eventually other things filtered back in. The sound of his heartbeat racing in his ears. The feel of it pounding through his chest. Painful moaning in between each breath he took. 

It took him a while to realize the moaning was coming from him.

And still…

The _incessant_ breathing. In. Out. Again and again. He tried to hold his breath but his chest already felt like it was being crushed and he didn't make it more than a couple of heartbeats before he was gasping for air, causing himself more pain. 

In and out. Taunting him. 

Another noise made it through the haze of pain and confusion holding him hostage. A strange sort of rushing sound. No, that wasn't right. Not rushing. Crackling. No, rolling. That was it. Something heavy and hard rolling over gritty cobblestone. That was the sound. He knew that sound, but he couldn't place it. 

At least, not until the smell hit his nose. Fire. The sound was fire, and the smell was melting plastic and burning carpet and wires. And something else. Something putrid. Something that made him want to throw up, even though he didn't think he could manage it with the kind of pain he was in. 

Flesh.

That thought, that memory, fished out of his past, hit him hardest of all. The fire smelled like burning flesh. Like the time Jimmy Godin had tripped and stuck his hand in the Bunsen burner in eighth grade chemistry, except so much _more_. All consuming. All encompassing. And so fucking close it could've been him.

It _was_ him.

The searing pain in his hands and feet and along the side of his face suddenly made sense.

He screamed.

And screamed.

And then he breathed. In. Out. Heart pounding.

He had to move. The thought came suddenly. He wasn't going to stop burning until he moved. He had to get away from the fire trying to consume him an inch at a time. He had to move, no matter how much it hurt. 

The first attempt to roll over was a failure. So was the second. Finally, on the third try, he made it. Face down, he stilled. Breathed. Tried not to throw up. Eventually he worked up the nerve to push up on his hands and knees, only to cry out as more pain ripped through his hands. Hands that slipped out from under him as he crashed back down on his stomach. 

Whimpering, he forced his eyes open for the first time, attempting to see what he'd slipped on so he could avoid it on the next try. What he saw made his stomach lurch violently. He hadn't slipped on anything on the floor of the plane. 

He'd slipped on his own flesh. Burnt, charred flesh that was now hanging from his fingertips. He did throw up, then. Over and over until there was nothing left in his stomach and his chest felt like there was a knife lodged in it. Broken ribs, he realized vaguely. 

Eventually, he found the courage to make another attempt, just as the leg of his jeans caught fire, the flames licking at him like a demented lover. He scrambled to his knees, then pushed up on his forearms, holding his hands up off the ground, fingers curled into painful, throbbing fists, clutching at the loose skin. 

Carefully, he avoided looking at the dead, burning bodies all around him as he crawled toward the sunlight spilling in through a hole in the cabin of the plane where it had broken apart. It took forever, but finally he made it through, out into the cold mountain air. A mixture of relief and abject misery swirled through him, mixing inside him in an insidious loop that threatened to drive him mad. 

Spotting a bank of snow off to one side, he didn't even hesitate before crawling toward it. Desperate for the pain to stop, he shoved his hands in it, then threw back his head and screamed as the pain multiplied by ten. Yanking his hands back out, he collapsed onto his side, belatedly realizing that at some point, the fire trying to eat his jeans off him had gone out. 

He lifted his hands in front of his face and stared at them for a long moment, until finally, the shock wore off and he started to cry, deep soul-rending sobs that the snow around him seemed to swallow whole. He wondered what his face looked like if his hands looked like _that_. He hoped he never found out. If there was a God the way his parents had always insisted there was, the fucker would let him die out here. Let him just go to sleep and drift off and never wake up. 

Except, that didn't happen. Instead he felt a strange tingling in his hands and face and feet. Opening his eyes again, he blinked through the tears, trying to assimilate what he was seeing with what he knew was possible and what he knew wasn't. As impossible as it seemed, though, he couldn't deny the pain was lessening with each passing moment. 

As he watched, dumbfounded, his hands started to repair themselves; new flesh crept over them slowly but surely, sealing away the raw, exposed muscle and tendons of his burnt palms. Eventually there was more new, healed flesh than not and the charred remains of skin hanging from his fingers dropped off, falling to the ground like blackened bits of paper, stark against the white of the snow. 

When the process was complete, when the prickling tingles subsided and his hands were new and pink and smoother than they'd been since he was a baby, Adam lifted them tentatively toward his face, prepared to scream again if it was all some sort of hallucination brought on by the agony he was in. But there was no pain as he touched his face where it had hurt before. Instead, he felt the same new, smooth skin there. 

Taking a deep breath, he realized his chest wasn't hurting anymore either. Still wary it was all going to be taken away in an instant, he sat up and stared down at his feet. His shoes were gone—burnt off, he assumed—and the same charred, dead flesh blanketed the ground near his newly smooth feet. There wasn't even any sign of the callouses he'd had ever since he'd worked that shitty diner job while wearing even shittier shoes the summer after his senior year.

And then it hit him. What it all meant. Steve—a guy he'd picked up at a bar in New Orleans to celebrate the recording contract he'd just found out he landed—hadn't been insane after all. He'd been _right_. The curse, the one dooming Adam to an eternity of loneliness while everyone around him died—especially those he loved—was real. 

He curled into a ball in the snow, the cold unable to penetrate the abject terror and helplessness consuming him as he cried for all he'd lost: his life, his family … his future.  
  


### Chapter 1

  


  


_Los Angeles, March, 2008…_

 

"Dude," Dave said, loud enough to be heard over the music blasting from the stereo and the various conversations taking place, "what the _fuck_ happened to your hair? Did a skunk explode on your head?"

"Fuck you," Tommy said, shutting the door behind him and dropping a twenty-four pack cube of beer in Dave's lap on his way by the couch. 

Dave cursed, pushing it off his lap and onto the cushion next to him so he could protectively cup his junk. "What're you trying to do, take away my ability to have children?"

Tommy snorted as he maneuvered through the people gathered in their apartment for the party they'd decided to throw earlier that day. Making his way to the kitchenette—and more importantly, the refrigerator in it—he put the other case away. 

"I'd be doing mankind a favor," Tommy said over his shoulder. "Certain people just should _not_ procreate."

Across the room, Christian lifted his beer in the air. "Hear, hear." 

"Fuck you," Dave said indignantly. 

"Not even if you paid me," Tommy quipped.

"Yeah, right," Dave said. "You'd be all up in my shit if I let you."

Tommy laughed, grabbing an already cold beer from the refrigerator and opening it up. "Keep telling yourself that, dick."

Christian walked over and slung an arm around Tommy, saying, "Yeah, besides, everyone knows it's my tight little ass he's been lusting after all these years."

"Fuck," Tommy said with a mock shudder. "In your wet dreams, maybe."

Christian laughed and shoved Tommy away from him hard, sending Tommy careening into the peninsula separating the kitchen from the living room. Thankfully, Tommy managed to save the beer.

Turning to glare at Christian, he said, "Not cool, man. That was almost alcohol abuse."

Christian snorted. "I knew you'd save it."

"Whatever," Tommy replied, taking a long drink.

"So," Dillon, Christian's roommate said, "are the three of you gonna stand around playing grab ass all night, or are we going to do something?"

"Like what?" Dave asked, walking over with the other beer cube. As he put it in the fridge, he said, "Tommy and I aren't fucking entertainment coordinators. We provided the place and the beer, you can damn well provide the entertainment if hanging out bullshitting isn't good enough for you."

"Maybe we should break out the nail polish and eyeliner and make ourselves all pretty like Tommy here," Christian said, leaning over to lay his head on Tommy's shoulder, face upturned so he could flutter his eyelashes at him.

Tommy snorted and pushed Christian off. "None of you fuckers could ever look as pretty as me."

"Ain't that the truth," Dillon deadpanned. 

Tommy finished off his beer and threw his empty can at him in retaliation, but Dillon ducked just in time and laughed.

"Got some cards?" Lenny asked. "We could get a game of poker going."

"Knock yourselves out," Tommy said as he pulled a deck out of the drawer he and Dave had affectionately dubbed the junk drawer and tossed them across the room to Lenny.

"You're not playing?" Christian asked as he headed over to the oversized coffee table in the living room.

"I'm broke, man," Tommy said. "Rent _and_ lights were due this week."

"What about you?" Dillon asked, looking at Dave.

"Between that and the beer, I'm broke too."

"Okay," Dillon said. "Poker's out, then. What about _I've Never_?"

"Sure," Dave said. Christian, Lenny and Todd agreed, which left them all looking at Tommy.

Tommy shrugged. "Why not? No asking the same questions as last time, though, agreed?"

Everyone nodded and crowded into the living room. 

Taking a seat on the floor by the coffee table, Todd asked, "So, where's the little lady, T-Bone?"

Tommy scowled and flopped into a chair near the couch. "Delmy and I broke up. Again." 

The breakup had been what had prompted him and Dave to throw the party, actually. Dave had suggested it as a way to cheer him up. Not that they'd really needed an excuse to get wasted with friends, but it was as good of one as any.

"Christ," Lenny said, sitting down on the couch. "You need to just walk away for good, man. She can't be good enough in bed to make up for all the drama."

"I am _not_ discussing my sex life with you," Tommy said. "Get your own."

Lenny sighed, a faraway look in his eyes. "If only I could. Unfortunately I'm stuck with the blowup doll I bought last week."

Sitting next to Lenny on the couch, Dave reached over and shoved him. "Dude, that's so fucking nasty."

Lenny laughed. "Maybe, but it beats my hand, pun intended."

"All right, all right. Let's get this fucker started," Tommy said.

"Okay," Dillon said, beer in hand. Smirking at Lenny, he continued, "I've never had sex with an inanimate object."

Lenny glowered and took a drink. Tommy's cheeks warmed a little as he took one too. Given what Lenny had just been talking about, no one was surprised when he took a drink, so everyone's eyes trained on Tommy.

Shaking his head, Tommy said, "No fucking way. I am _not_ explaining that one."

"You know the rules," Dave warned.

"Talk or you get a swirly," Todd said, his grin making it clear which option he hoped Tommy chose.

Tommy scowled, lips pressed together until everyone started getting up and coming toward him. "Okay, okay!" When everyone sat back down, Tommy cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "I got a dildo as a gag gift on my birthday, so … I tried it out."

By the time he was through explaining, his face felt like it was on fire. He rolled his eyes and glowered as everyone ribbed him, until finally they settled down.

Clearing his throat, Todd said, "I've never passed out with my head in the toilet."

"Dude!" Dave said indignantly. "I told you that _in confidence_."

Todd laughed as Dave took a drink. "And I kept the confidence. _You_ just told on yourself."

Dave glared at Todd. "Whatever." Glancing around the circle, he asked, "Don't really think it needs an explanation, does it?"

Everyone shook their head and then it was Lenny's turn. "I've never gotten head while driving down the highway."

Tommy and Dillon both took a drink, then took turns giving up the relevant details.

It was Dave's turn next, and he said, "I've never watched animal porn."

Tommy groaned and took a drink. Realizing he was the only one and everyone else was looking at him with various degrees of _what the fuck?_ , he said defensively, "What? You haven't ever been bored in the middle of the night and wondered what lions look like fucking?"

*

*

An hour later, Tommy was well on his way to wasted, and grinning like an idiot in spite of the ribbing he was getting over how much shit he'd done that none of the others had. Like it was his fault they all led sheltered lives. Fuckers.

Finally, though, Lenny hit on one Tommy hadn't done when he said, "I've never walked through a haunted house at night. Like, a for real haunted house, not those things at carnivals and shit."

Everyone except Lenny and Tommy drank to that. No one was surprised Lenny hadn't because it was well known that Lenny screamed like a girl at the fake carnival ones, but judging by the wide-eyed looks of shock on their faces, they were all surprised Tommy hadn't.

"Seriously?" He said, glancing around the room at them. "You remember I’m a fucking atheist, right? There's no such thing as a haunted house. Just people with overactive imaginations."

"Dude," Christian said, more than a little on the way to wasted himself. " _Dude_. You are _so_ fucking wrong. You don't even _know_."

Tommy snorted. "Fuck you. I am not."

Dillon nodded. "You are. There's one right here in your neighborhood."

"What? Shut up, there is not," Dave said. "Where?"

"That house three streets over," Todd said, pointing west. "The one that sits on that huge lot, with the long winding driveway? Owner's been trying to sell that thing for years now, but every time there's interest, strange shit happens and it scares the potential buyers off."

Tommy snorted. "That's stupid. That place is like, three stories high and _old_. They probably just heard noises from it settling or some shit."

Christian shook his head, eyes wide. "No, man. The place is haunted. I took my girlfriend in there once, figuring I'd get her good and scared and be all big and brave and get laid for it, but we both ended up running out of there like there was a fire under our asses. It wasn't just noises. There were shadows, and someone whispering to us to get out, and things falling, and I _swear_ at one point I felt breath on the back of my neck."

Tommy leaned in and narrowed his eyes at Christian. "Just how drunk are you?"

"Not enough to be delusional, asswipe," Christian said with a snort. "If you don't believe me, let's go over there now."

Tommy scowled. "Fuck no. I'm way too drunk to drive and I don't feel like walking three blocks just to prove you guys all wrong."

"Figures," Dave said. "You're all talk, no action. Bet you're sitting there wetting your panties just thinking about it."

"Fuck. You," Tommy said. He knew Dave was just trying to wind him up, but buzzing like he was, it was working anyway. Besides, he was kinda curious. He finished off his beer, then slammed it down on the coffee table and stood up. "I'll show you who's gonna wet their panties." When the rest of them stood, Tommy looked around and said, "Ten dollars says I outlast all you motherfuckers."

One by one they all agreed, until it was down to Lenny. Lenny held up his hands, shaking his head. "I'll walk over there with you guys, but there's no fucking way I'm going in."

"Fine," Christian said. "You're in charge of keeping track of what order we come out."

Lenny nodded and they were off, grabbing shoes and jackets along the way.

*

  


*

Less than five minutes later, they walked up to the mouth of the long, winding driveway that led up to the house on the hill. It was three stories tall and Victorian in style. Tommy had walked past the place more times than he could count on the way to the grocery store nearby, and the only thought he'd ever given it was how it was an anomaly in an area where most houses were either ranch style or Spanish in influence, or some combination of both.

"This is it," Christian said in a hushed voice.

As they made their way silently up the driveway, Tommy felt nerves flutter in his stomach. He might not believe in ghosts, but he was man enough to admit that the house looked fucking intimidating in the dark. 

They stopped about ten feet from the porch and just stared. Tommy's gaze caught on one of the windows on the third floor, sure he'd seen movement. He blinked just as the wind kicked up, causing the branches of a nearby tree to flutter and send shadows skittering across the front side of the house in the moonlight. A couple of the branches obscured the window for a second before settling back down. Tommy zeroed in on the window again, but there was no sign of life.

Shaking his head at himself, Tommy decided it must have been a trick of the light and started up the walkway to the porch, not waiting to see if anyone else was following him or not. He took the steps two at a time, and then he was there, standing in front of the oversized wooden door, staring at the doorknob.

On either side of him, Christian, Todd, Dillon, Dave and Mike walked up and stopped dead in their tracks.

"Well?" Christian asked. "Gonna open it?"

Tommy glanced back over his shoulder at Lenny, who was standing a good twenty feet from the porch, then at each of them. "Ready?" Everyone nodded, various degrees of nervousness showing on their faces in the moonlight, and Tommy reached for the doorknob.

Stepping inside was kind of anticlimactic. Tommy wasn't sure what he'd expected, but given all the hype from everyone—no matter how ridiculous—he'd been prepared for like, noises and things flying at him and walls shaking and shit. Instead, everything was absolutely and completely silent. Almost unnaturally so.

The place itself was just as intimidating inside as out. Directly in front of him and through an archway was a long, winding staircase that disappeared behind an arch in the ceiling. Moonlight from a window somewhere out of sight, probably at the top of it, spilled down over the polished wood steps and the wrought iron railings framing either side, exaggerating the shadows already present. Heavy-looking wooden doors set off by elaborate moldings stood opposite each other at the base of the steps, forming the walls of the arch.

"What now?" Christian whispered so quietly Tommy almost thought he'd imagined it.

"I don't know," Mike answered, confirming for Tommy that Christian really had spoken. 

"How are we doing this?" Tommy asked. "Staying together or wandering off our separate ways?"

"The fuck I'm letting any of you out of my sight," Dave said, a slight waver in his voice.

Dillon snorted. "Sounds like someone's about to bitch out early."

"Fuck you," Dave said. "Like you aren't seconds from shitting yourself."

Tommy rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the Mexican jumping beans that had taken up residence in his gut. "Thanks for that image, Dave."

"Let's just stay together," Todd said.

"Okay," Dillon agreed. "Door number one, number two, or the staircase?"

Staring at the stairs and remembering the movement he'd thought he'd seen in the third floor window, Tommy said, "Staircase."

Christian gestured toward it. "After you, Mr. Ghostbuster."

Tommy took a deep breath and made his way to the stairs. He hesitated at the bottom for a second, then started up. The cool iron of the railing was almost a shock to his system, although he wasn't sure what he'd expected it to feel like, given it was a relatively chilly night for LA.

The stairs curved to one side and sure enough, he'd been right. There was a window at the top of them, perfectly framing the nearly full moon outside. Stepping onto the landing, Tommy looked first to the left, then the right. Just past a short balcony that overlooked the staircase he'd just walked up, there was a second set of stairs that continued on, again curving out of sight. Unlike the first set, though, this set was dark all the way up. 

Psyching himself up, he started for the second flight of stairs. A hand on his arm made him jump. When he realized it was just Mike, he felt like an idiot. He was letting the lingering alcohol in his system and his friends' superstitions get the better of him.

Looking at Tommy with wide eyes, Mike said, "You're not seriously going to go up there, are you?"

"What's the point if we're not gonna check the whole place out?"

"Yeah, but we could maybe start with this floor, couldn't we?" Mike asked with a nervous chuckle.

Tommy shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'm going from the top down."

Cursing, Mike made to follow him and the others did the same. As quietly as they could, they made their way up the creaking staircase until they found themselves on another landing, this time with a hallway stretched out before them. There was one door on either side, staggered instead of directly across from each other, and a third door at the end of the hall.

Starting with the door on the left, Tommy refused to acknowledge the fact that he'd picked it because it was on the opposite side of where he'd thought he'd seen something or someone in the window. A quick perusal confirmed the room was completely empty, save an old dresser and a cracked mirror hanging on the wall above it. And the dust. Lots and lots of dust. Enough to make most of them sneeze when their feet kicked it up. 

They stepped back into the hall and Tommy frowned, realizing that until then, there hadn't been much dust on the floor. They checked the room at the end of the hall, but it was just more of the same. Finally, there was no putting it off anymore. They were down to just one door left. Tommy scowled at himself when he realized he was holding his breath as he turned the doorknob.

He pushed it open and was immediately struck by the fact that it seemed almost … lived in. It was still dark and void of personal belongings, but there was a bed with sheets on it, another dresser and mirror, this one not cracked, and a very telling lack of dust. It was also the biggest of the three rooms.

Stepping inside, Tommy looked around. It wasn't like a modern day bedroom in a modern day house. It wasn't one giant square with a door to the hall and another to a closet. This room, like the others, wasn't even close to box shaped. It had shadowy, dark nooks set back in the walls, places where the moonlight didn't penetrate the darkness. Tommy kicked himself for not thinking to bring a flashlight as he headed for a wardrobe standing off to one side.

Just as he and the others stepped away from the door, Tommy felt what he could only describe as a breeze rush past him, and then the door slammed shut. 

Whipping around, Tommy and the others glanced around, trying to figure out where the breeze had come from. The windows were all shut, and there wasn't a fireplace, so…

Before Tommy could figure it out, Christian screamed and stumbled toward the middle of the room, looking frantically at the shadowy nook he'd been standing near. "I fucking told you guys!"

"What?" Tommy asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It-it touched me. I felt it. I felt fingers on my shoulder."

"You said it was a ghost," Tommy said flatly. "Ghosts—if they were real, which they're _not_ —can't touch stuff, can they?"

"Sure they can," Dave said, edging his way toward Christian. Todd, Dillon and Mike followed suit and then they were all standing in the middle of the room, facing outward, backs to each other, leaving only Tommy standing off to one side, refusing to be freaked out by Christian's overactive imagination.

"Um, I think I've had enough of this room, guys," Todd said, voice shaking a little as he headed for the door. Before he could get there, though, there was a blur of movement and suddenly Todd was on the floor on his butt, screaming at the top of his lungs, and the door was open again.

Tommy's heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the shadows, wondering for the first time if maybe he'd been wrong. What he'd just seen—or rather what he hadn't—was a little hard to explain away.

Everyone looked at each other, and then suddenly they all sprang into action, racing for the door. Tommy stopped to help Todd up, and then Todd was racing out ahead of him. Tommy made to follow, but the door slammed shut in his face and locked. He whipped around, back to the door, searching the room with wide eyes as he swallowed hard.

"Wh-who's there?" he asked, just above a whisper.

On the other side of the door, he could hear pounding and his friends shouting his name, but he couldn't find enough of a voice to answer them or enough courage to reach over and attempt to unlock the door. He was too busy trying not to piss himself and mentally kicking his own ass for being so sure there wasn't any such thing as ghosts.

He looked off to one side, toward the wardrobe and the dark corner beyond it. He shivered in fear when he felt a warm puff of air against his neck from the other side. Stomach in his throat, Tommy slowly turned his head, afraid of what he was going to find, but there was no one there. 

Convincing himself he'd imagined it, he exhaled in relief. He turned his back to the room, but just as he reached for the lock, something pushed him face first into the door. He struggled to shove away, but whatever was pressing against the center of his back was unyielding. And then the warm air was back again, puffing across his bare neck.

"Go home," someone—or something—whispered against his ear. "You don't belong here."

Tommy sucked in a sharp breath and froze. Afraid to move, afraid to breathe, afraid to even blink for a full minute. His friends were still shouting and pounding on the door, but that all faded into the distance as he stood there, sure his life was about to end. 

From somewhere deep inside, from the defiant part of him that had pissed on a statue of Mary in protest when he was a kid, he found himself saying in a sarcastic voice, "I was trying, but then a door slammed in my face."

Immediately he squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself, sure he'd just signed his death warrant. Instead of the blinding pain he'd expected to feel from being ripped limb from limb, though, a soft, unearthly laugh filled the air instead. It sounded like a cross between a human male and some kind of wild animal's cackle. Tommy swallowed hard.

With one last press against his back, whatever it was let him go and roared, fucking _roared_ , like a lion or some damn shit. The walls _shook_ with the force of it. 

Not even daring to look back, Tommy jerked the door open and shouted to his friends, "Run, goddammit!"

They all raced for the stairs, practically flying down them. Tommy followed, barely making it down the first flight without losing his footing. He grabbed the iron railing of the short stretch of balcony that made up the landing between the flights, but his body got ahead of his grip, and as he rushed forward without letting go fast enough, he swung back around on himself and grunted as he slammed into the railing at the edge of the staircase. He lost his footing and pitched head first down them, grip slipping from the rail with the force of his body's momentum. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the pain he was sure was about to slam through his body, but instead, he found himself more or less hanging over the stairs, bent at the waist, the back of his jeans caught on something. He opened his eyes in time to see the last of his friends disappear from the base of the stairs, racing for the door, and then he was being jerked backwards by whatever his jeans had caught on. He crashed into something warm and hard, something like a body, and suddenly he was falling backwards, on top of someone else. 

Adrenalin pumping through his veins because of all the close calls he'd just had in several minutes' time, he tried to scramble away. Whoever or whatever had grabbed him wound an arm around his middle, though, and all Tommy ended up doing was flailing like a bug caught on its back. 

Deciding to try a different tactic, he twisted in the arm's hold until he was lying face down on top of a … person? He went still, staring down into the shadows, unable to make out the dude's face, but pretty sure it was a dude anyway. He was bigger and broader than Tommy, and sure, there were more than a few females who could claim that, too, considering how small Tommy was, but he definitely got a guy vibe off the person. Plus, there were no breasts pressing against his chest. Whatever. It wasn't a ghost, that was for fucking sure. Ghosts didn't feel solid or warm. His delusional friends could go fuck themselves. 

Tommy opened his mouth to say what, he didn't know. He didn't get the chance. The person underneath him flipped their positions and suddenly Tommy found himself on his back, pinned under the person, a knee wedged between his legs.

Tommy reached up to shove the stranger off, but large, strong hands circled his wrists and pinned them to the floor on either side of his head with seemingly no effort at all. Whoever it was, he was fucking _strong_. Tommy might not be big, but he wasn't a wimp either.

Holding his breath, Tommy lifted his eyes from the vicinity of the man's chest, gaze traveling up his neck and over his jaw, finally settling on his eyes. His face, illuminated by the moonlight from the window just past them, wasn't like any face Tommy had ever seen. His face was … contorted somehow, like the muscles and bones didn't quite fit. Black lines branched across his skin, vein-like in appearance, and his _eyes_. His eyes were pools of black, no hint of iris in sight, like his pupils were completely blown or something. He looked, for lack of a better term, like a monster.

A monster who had just saved Tommy from breaking his neck on the stairs. 

Not sure where he was getting the balls to speak from, Tommy said in a whisper, "It was you. In that room. Not a ghost. You slammed the door and told me to leave and fucking roared like a damn lion or some shit."

The man-monster stared back at him, looking torn between answering or not. Finally, he said in a soft growly whisper, "Yes."

Tommy opened his mouth to ask more questions, but before he could—hell, before he could even blink—the … whatever the dude was … was up off him and yanking Tommy to his feet by the front of his shirt. Before Tommy could protest, the monster bent over and hoisted Tommy up over his shoulder, then carried him down the stairs.

The whole thing only took a matter of seconds and then Tommy was back on his feet, head spinning. Suddenly he understood how the thing had accomplished all he had upstairs without them seeing him. He was fucking _fast_. Way faster than a human. Tommy staggered back a couple of steps, almost losing his balance again, and a hand reached out to steady him. Tommy glanced at it on his upper arm and froze when he found claws instead of fingernails. 

"Oh fuck," he whispered, sure he was about to die in spite of the fact that the monster had yet to actually hurt him and had, in fact, saved him from hurting himself.

The monster's other hand shot out and circled his neck, pinning Tommy to the front door. Tommy felt the tips of the thing's claws bite into the tender flesh of his throat, just a little, as the thing leaned in, face partially visible in the shadows, making the man-monster-whatever look even more sinister than he had with moonlight shining directly on his face. 

"Leave now and don't ever come back."

Between one slow blink of Tommy's eyes and the next, the monster was gone, just like that. If it hadn't been for the residual hint of pain where claws had dug into his neck and the fact that he wasn't lying at the bottom of the stairs with a broken neck from the fall, Tommy almost would've thought he had imagined the whole thing. 

With one last glance around, sure it was going to jump out at him from the shadows, Tommy fumbled for the doorknob and yanked it open, racing out the open door and down the front steps to where his friends were standing, arguing about what to do. 

As soon as they saw him, the relief on their faces was palpable. Instantly, Tommy found himself surrounded, getting hugged from every direction as ten dollar bills were stuffed in his jeans pockets, along with comments about how he'd totally earned it.


	2. Chapter 2

Adam watched from an upstairs window as Tommy hurried away from the house, surrounded by friends patting him on the back. Adam's enhanced hearing allowed him to listen in on them as they praised Tommy for lasting the longest. So far, Tommy hadn't mentioned a word about the fact that the house wasn't haunted by a ghost, but was instead occupied by a monster.

Adam scowled. He'd never been that sloppy with intruders snooping around the property before. He'd always managed to keep to the shadows, to keep moving faster than the human eye could see when he was in the light, and because of that, he'd scared off everyone who had ever entered the house. But as much as he wanted to keep people thinking the house was haunted so it wouldn't sell and he wouldn't have to relocate again, he couldn't let Tommy break his neck falling down the stairs, either. 

Claws digging into the window molding hard enough to make the wood split, Adam snarled. What the hell had possessed Tommy and his friends to come play Haunted Mansion, anyway? Until now, he'd kept himself completely off Tommy's radar. He'd been so careful. Ever since he'd first seen Tommy out walking one night, he'd managed to stay in the shadows of Tommy's world, peeking in on his life whenever he could manage it without Tommy noticing. But now…

Now Tommy knew he existed. All because Adam hadn't been able to let him fall. True, he could have set Tommy down and gotten out of sight before Tommy saw him, but it had been hard enough to let go when he'd had Tommy pinned against the door in his bedroom. He hadn't been able to make himself do it again when Tommy fell on top of him, so he'd ended up revealing himself. And while Tommy had reacted with surprise and a healthy amount of fear when confronted by something with claws that was stronger and faster than a human, he hadn't reacted with revulsion the way Adam had thought he would. Hell, he'd tried to have a conversation with Adam. 

Once the group was off the property and making their way down the street, Adam turned away from the window and blinked. He still couldn't believe Tommy had not only been in the mansion, but had been in his room. What were the chances, really, that the man he'd been admiring from afar for the better part of half a year showed up on his doorstep? 

He was torn about how to feel. One part of him was happy that he'd finally made contact, that Tommy knew he existed, especially since Tommy hadn't seemed repulsed by him. The other part, though, that part was livid. It should have never happened, both for Adam's state of mind and for Tommy's safety. It was too dangerous for Tommy to know about him. Too much could go wrong.

Inhaling, Adam growled as he picked up several scents besides Tommy's. They had invaded _his_ space. _His_ room. It didn't matter that he was just holed up in an abandoned house he had no actual rights to. He'd been staying there for years now. He thought of it as his. He'd lucked out that the actual owners never stopped by to check on the place. Otherwise they might question why the electric, cable and water were all hooked up and being paid for by someone other than them. 

Stomping toward the closet of the room he slept in at night, he stepped inside, glanced up at the attic access that he never bothered to cover up, and jumped. He easily cleared the opening, feet landing on the attic floor with a soft thud. He glanced around at his art studio, thankful no one had found the access or a way up there. With the exception of Tommy, Adam wasn't sure he could have reined in the demon or the rage that came with it if they had. He'd had a hard enough time staying in control when they'd entered his bedroom. 

He knew he should just buy the place. He had enough money, after all. But doing so would put his address on public record. He sold his art at galleries around the world and was successful enough at it that there was buzz surrounding him and the fact that he was a recluse whose face no one had ever seen. It would be just his luck that some overachieving reporter or an overenthusiastic art aficionado would find a way to track him down in order to be the one to put a face to the name on the paintings. 

No, as long as he could keep scaring people off, it was the best option. If it ever came to the point that someone was willing to buy in spite of the fact that the house was supposedly haunted, he'd reconsider. But now there was Tommy and his foolish friends. Tommy, who had discovered his secret, or at least part of it. Adam had no idea what he would do with that information. From what Adam had overheard, it sounded like Tommy planned to let the others keep assuming the place was haunted. Who knew what he'd do come morning once he had the night to sleep on it, though.

Adam crossed to his easel and sat. He picked up the charcoal he used for sketching, needing to work out some of the tension and fear thrumming through him. He couldn't get his mind off Tommy, as usual, but now it was worse. Now he knew how Tommy's body fit with his. How delicious it felt when Tommy squirmed against him. How he sounded when he'd thought he was going to fall. The way he'd gone still and silent when Adam had pinned him to the door. Adam was almost sure there had been more than fear lurking in Tommy's big, brown eyes. 

Given the direction of his thoughts, it wasn't unexpected that he ended up drawing asymmetrical hair, pouty lips and wide eyes. Not unexpected at all, but very, very unwanted.

*

  


*

Tommy woke with a groan, head throbbing and mouth tasting like ass. He squinted against the bright light pouring in the window, and cursed drunk him for forgetting to close the blinds the night before. Flinging an arm over his face, he briefly fantasized about going back in time and kicking his own ass for it. Vaguely amused by the thought, despite the jackhammer currently trying to bust its way out of his skull, Tommy climbed out of bed and stumbled toward the hallway and the bathroom beyond, where the pain pills and the toilet lived.

He recoiled when he stepped inside and flipped the light on, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing as he blindly felt around for the light switch. Quickly, he turned it back off and sighed in relief when he opened his eyes to nothing but shadows. Making his way to the medicine cabinet, he grabbed some ibuprofen and tossed it in his mouth. Picking up what he hoped was a clean cup from the counter, he filled it with water, then used it to down the pills. 

Once that was done, he stumbled back to bed, stopping by his window along the way to shut the blinds. With his room nice and dark, he flopped onto his bed, climbed under the covers, and passed the fuck out again.

*

*

The next time Tommy woke, he felt a fuck of a lot more human. His mouth still tasted like ass, though, and he felt scuzzy as hell, so he grudgingly got up, grabbed some clean clothes and headed for the bathroom.

After a quick shower and shave, he got dressed and threw on some eyeliner. Once he was done, he stopped by his bedroom to grab his wallet, then made his way out to the living room and kitchen. Both were trashed, but he hadn't really expected anything else, even though he couldn't remember most of the night. Or maybe especially because of that. He'd gotten pretty wasted and he assumed the others had, too. There were beer cans scattered over every available surface, and popcorn and nuts littered the floor around the couch and nearby chair. 

Sighing, Tommy fished a garbage bag out from under the sink in the kitchen and went to work gathering all the cans and bottles for recycling. He and Dave had a long standing policy that whoever got to the empty cans first after a party got to return them and keep the money for themselves. Deciding to leave the rest of the mess until he had some food in his stomach, Tommy headed for the door. 

Half an hour later, he stood in the checkout with ramen noodles and bananas and stared into his empty wallet, not comprehending what he was seeing. Or rather, what he wasn't. He'd had money in there yesterday. He was sure of it. 

Shit. He must have spent it last night on snacks after getting drunk. Come to think of it, there hadn't been nuts or popcorn in the apartment, so he'd definitely spent the last of his money until payday at the corner store. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Putting his wallet in his back pocket, he stuffed his hands in his front pockets, embarrassed, and started to tell the cashier that he'd just have to get one twelve pack of the ramen and the bananas, and leave the rest. Before he could, though, he felt something in his pockets. Both of them. Frowning, he pulled his hands out and found himself clutching several tens in each hand. 

What the fuck? He stared at them, wondering where they'd come from.

"Is there a problem?" the cashier asked impatiently. 

Blinking, Tommy looked up at her. "Uh, no. Here," he said, thrusting one of the tens at her. He straightened out the others, pulled his wallet back out, and stuffed them inside.

Taking the money from him, she made change and handed it to him. Grabbing his bag, Tommy stumbled out of the store, trying desperately to remember what he'd done the night before. He really, really hoped he hadn't like, knocked off the corner store. He so did not need to go to prison. He'd be someone's bitch for sure. 

When he got home, he kicked the door closed distractedly, causing Dave,—who had apparently emerged from his room at some point while Tommy was gone—to jump a mile high on the couch and clutch at his head. 

" _Dude_ , watch the migraine, will ya?"

"Sorry," Tommy mumbled, crossing to the kitchen. Grabbing a pan out of the cabinet, he poured water in it and set it on the stove. Removing a packet of noodles from the twelve pack he'd bought, he stuffed the rest away, then proceeded to stare at the pan of water while he waited for it to boil.

"Hangover fucking you up, too?" Dave asked as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet for water.

"Huh?" Tommy asked. "Oh. No. I, like, found fifty bucks in tens in my pockets and I've got no fucking clue how it all got there."

Dave chuckled. "Dude, you really were wasted. That explains how you lasted so long."

"What?" Tommy asked, confused.

"Last night we checked out that haunted house three blocks over. There was a bet on who'd stay in the house the longest, and—"

"I won," Tommy interrupted, memories flooding back. 

Claws and black veins and contorted features flashed through Tommy's head and he tensed. A monster. As improbable as it sounded, there had been a monster in that house, not a ghost like everyone thought. Other memories flashed back, memories of the monster's breath on his neck, his body pressed down on Tommy's after he'd saved him from breaking his neck. Claws on his throat, digging in, pinning him to the door as the monster warned him to stay away. 

Tommy had been too drunk to do anything but obey and get the hell out of there, but now that he was sober, he had questions, the first of which being whether or not he'd really seen what he'd thought he'd seen. Maybe it had been some sort of alcohol-induced hallucination.

"Yeah," Dave replied, oblivious to the direction Tommy's thoughts had taken. "You did. I never knew you had balls that big, man. I mean, _fuck_ , after that roar or whatever it was, I couldn't get out of that place fast enough. You stayed like, nearly five more minutes than any of the rest of us. Did you see anything?"

So much for an alcohol-induced hallucination, Tommy thought. Maybe, though, his brain was exaggerating what he'd thought he saw in his inebriated state. Maybe what he'd thought had been blackened veins had been a trick of the light or something. And the claws could've been … really long nails. Of course, that didn't explain the distorted facial features or the _speed_ at which the monster had moved. Or how strong the thing … he … _it_ was.

"Yo, Tommy," Dave said, waving a hand in front of Tommy's face.

Tommy blinked, refocusing on the pot of water that was now boiling. "What?"

"I asked if you saw anything after the rest of us left," Dave said.

"Oh, no," Tommy lied, partly because he was pretty sure Dave wouldn't believe him if he told the truth, and partly because he was reluctant to out the monster dude. 

The guy, or whatever it was, had gone to a lot of trouble to hide the fact that he was there. Probably because if anyone knew he existed, he'd be hunted down and killed or locked up in some government facility. 

"Well, whatever," Dave said, clearly disappointed with that answer. "You stayed, you won, so you got the money."

"Yeah," Tommy said distractedly, a plan to go back to the house to get answers to his questions already taking shape in his head.

*

  


*

That evening, with the excuse he was going down to a club to check out a friend's band, Tommy left the apartment and headed straight for the haunted house. He made it all the way there and to the base of the porch steps before his nerves got the better of him and he hesitated, second-guessing himself.

He shouldn't be there. He'd been warned off, told to not come back. If he had any sense in his head at all, he'd heed the warning, turn and walk away. Except he couldn't. He didn't know why, but he felt a … pull, was the best way he could describe it, to come back, to see the man-monster again. 

He was insane. He knew that. The thing was strong enough and fast enough to snap him in two. Hell, for that matter, the monster could probably eviscerate him with one swipe of his claws. Except, the monster had saved Tommy when he'd been about to break his neck. And then offered a hand, claw, whatever to steady Tommy when he'd lost his balance by the door. Whatever else, it was obvious the monster didn't want to hurt him.

Holding on to that theory, Tommy climbed the steps and reached for the doorknob. It didn't turn. He was locked out. He looked down, and while he couldn't be sure, he thought it was a new doorknob entirely. Jaw set, Tommy backed up and glanced around, looking for some other way in. There was none. 

Eyes narrowing, Tommy said loudly, "Either let me in or I start telling people you're here!"

Seconds ticked by, and then a sound, like a lock turning, penetrated the cool night air. Holding his breath, Tommy stepped forward and tried the knob again. This time it turned, and the door opened.

Stepping inside, Tommy glanced around. It was just as eerie and creepy inside as last time. It looked just as abandoned, too, although now Tommy knew better.

Closing the door behind him, Tommy said, "Hello?" No answer. Scanning the foyer, his gaze settled on the stairs. Figuring the monster was up there since what seemed to be his bedroom was, Tommy called up them, "I know you're here."

More silence. Just when Tommy started to think he wouldn't get an answer, a gravelly voice said from above, "I told you to stay away."

"Yeah, well, I don't listen very well. It's a flaw," Tommy deadpanned, trying to act like he was bored, not freaking out of his fucking mind.

When no response was forthcoming, Tommy gathered his courage and started for the stairs. He climbed them slowly, listening for any sound of movement, any hint as to where the monster was hiding. When he reached the landing, he crossed to the next set and started up those, figuring the best place to look first was the bedroom he'd been trapped in the night before.

He no more got in the door than it was slammed shut behind him and he was shoved against it, a pissed off looking monster in his face, hand at his throat. "One of these days, that flaw is going to get you killed."

Tommy swallowed hard. "Maybe," he said with a bravado he wasn't really feeling just then, "but I'm betting it won't be today."

Inky black eyes narrowed. "And why is that?"

"Because you saved me. I know you did. And you didn't—haven't—hurt anyone who's ever come in here. You scare them off, make them believe in ghosts, but you don't hurt people."

"You're naïve," the monster spat. "There are ways other than violence to hurt someone."

"Like what?" Tommy asked, gaze moving over the monster's face, cataloging everything. Alcohol hadn't distorted his memories. The man, or whatever he was, was just as twisted, just as menacing looking as Tommy remembered. And the claws pricking at the flesh of Tommy's neck definitely weren't overgrown nails.

"None of your business," the monster snarled. "Get out."

With that, he released Tommy and disappeared from sight. Looking around, Tommy glared into the shadows, sure the monster was still there, hiding and watching him. "No, and if you don't talk to me, I _will_ tell everyone about you."

Seconds ticked by, turning into a minute. Then two. Finally the man-monster stepped out of the shadows on one side of the room. "You want to talk? Then talk."

Tommy shook his head. "No. I want answers. That means you have to talk, too."

The creature stared Tommy down for a moment, then said, "If I have to answer questions, so do you."

Tommy nodded. "Fair enough. I start, though."

"Go ahead," the creature said, voice gravelly.

Thinking through and discarding several questions, Tommy settled on, "What's your name?"

"Don't you mean, what am I?" he scoffed.

"No," Tommy said firmly. "I said what I meant."

There was a pause, then the monster said, "In another life, I was called Adam."

Tommy snorted. "Not like, Adam and Eve Adam from the Bible, right?"

The monster—Adam—rolled his eyes. "No. I'm old, but not that old."

"Good, because finding out in the span of twenty-four hours that the Bible isn't complete fiction like I thought on top of finding out there really are things other than humans roaming around the planet would be a little much," Tommy said.

"My turn," Adam said. Tommy nodded, and Adam took a step closer. "You're not scared of me. Why?"

"Shows what you know. I’m scared fucking shitless right now," Tommy replied.

"Then why come here?" Adam asked.

"Uh uh," Tommy said. "That's two questions in a row."

Adam growled, but pressed his lips tight together and motioned for Tommy to take his turn. 

"Okay," Tommy said, thinking fast. He'd hoped he'd get some answers, but he hadn't really expected any so he hadn't planned out questions. "Were you ever human, or were you born this way?"

"I was human once," Adam said. "If you're scared of me, why come back here?"

"Because I had too many questions to stay away," Tommy replied honestly. "You said once. What are you now?"

"A demon," Adam said, the look of disgust on his face making it clear he hated that he was. "Why haven't you told anyone about me?"

"Because … I don't know. I figure if you're going to all this trouble to hide and scare people off, you must have a reason," Tommy said. "Who or what did this to you?"

Adam growled, but answered. "A jealous witch. That's it? You kept your mouth shut just because you figured I had a reason?"

"Yes," Tommy said. "How long have you been stuck this way?"

"Thirty-three years," Adam said, prowling a little closer.

Tommy's eyes widened and before Adam could ask his question, Tommy blurted, "What? How's that possible? You look like you're in your twenties."

"I was twenty-six when I was cursed," Adam said. "The curse froze me in time. Made me immortal so that I would suffer forever. And now I get two questions. "Are you going to tell anyone about me?"

"No," Tommy replied honestly.

Adam cocked his head to the side a little, as if lost in thought, then finally asked, "What do you do?"

Tommy blinked at that, the question coming out of left field. "Um, do? I work as a cubicle rat to pay the bills, but I'm a musician. I play guitar, mainly."

"That explains a lot," Adam said, closing the rest of the distance between them until they were standing only a couple of feet apart.

Tommy's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Adam smiled a little, reaching out to flick Tommy's bangs from his face with one pointed claw. It didn't freak Tommy out like it probably should have. "The hair, the eyeliner, the nail polish…"

Tommy crossed his arms over his chest. "There's nothing wrong with makeup and polish and hair dye."

Shaking his head, Adam turned away and crossed to a window. Staring out of it, he said, "I never said there was."

"Then what are you saying?"

Adam turned to look at Tommy, but his face was in shadows so Tommy couldn't read his expression. "I'm saying I envy you, living your dream."

Tommy snorted. "Hardly. Most of the time it costs me and my band money to play. When we actually turn a profit, it's like, a miracle or some shit."

"But you get to get up on stage and do what you love," Adam insisted. "That's living your dream in my book. I don't have that option."

"Are you a musician too?" Tommy asked curiously, picking up on the wistfulness in Adam's voice.

"No," Adam snapped, his whole demeanor changing, becoming closed off. More closed off than it already had been. "Question and answer time is over. Now leave."

"What? No," Tommy said, even as Adam reached past him and opened the bedroom door.

"Yes," Adam said, grabbing hold of Tommy's arm and steering him out of the room.

In the hall, Tommy planted his feet and crossed his arms. "I said, no."

Adam huffed, then threw Tommy over his shoulder like the night before. Just like the night before, Tommy found himself deposited on his feet by the door a few seconds later. "I said yes," Adam said, staring Tommy down. "I answered your questions, I got the answers I wanted. This little chat is over. You're leaving now and you're not coming back."

Before Tommy could respond, Adam pulled the door open, shoved him out of it, and shut it in his face. Glaring, Tommy reached for the doorknob, but the lock clicked in place before he could open it again.

Frustrated, Tommy pounded on the door. "This isn't over! I'll be back, and you'd better let me in or I'll break a fucking window … or something."

A roar from the other side of the door that made the windows on either side rattle in their frames sent Tommy stumbling back a few steps. He almost took a backward fall down the steps but caught himself on the railing just in time. He stood there, willing the door to open, but when it didn't, he cursed, turned, and stomped down the steps, already making plans for his next visit. He wasn't through by a long shot. Adam could go fuck himself if he thought he was going to get the last word.


	3. Chapter 3

Standing at his bedroom window, Adam growled softly as he watched Tommy walk up the driveway. Adam had hoped it had been an empty threat when Tommy had said he was going to come back today. _Goddammit_. Adam had given him answers. What more did he want?

Looking down, Adam recognized the acoustic guitar case in Tommy's hand. He'd seen him leaving his apartment with it a few times in the past. What he didn't understand was why Tommy had brought it with him tonight.

When Tommy reached the porch, Adam suddenly remembered what else Tommy had threatened. He'd said if the door was locked he'd bust a window to get in. Not willing to take the gamble that it was an idle threat, Adam raced from his room on the third floor down to the front door, easily making it by the time Tommy reached the top step of the porch.

Adam waited, hovering just out of sight by one of the windows facing the porch, wrestling with whether to unlock the door or not. On the one hand, it would set a dangerous precedent if he caved to Tommy's threats a second time. It would send the message that he wasn't something to be scared of, that he wasn't the dangerous monster he looked to be. On the other, he was curious as hell to know why Tommy had not only come back after the way Adam had kicked him out the day before, but why he'd brought his acoustic guitar with him. 

Standing there in indecision, Adam listened to Tommy walk from the steps to the door. After a short pause, there was a knock, which Adam didn't answer.

"I'm back," Tommy called after a moment. "Like I said I would be."

Tommy knocked again, and again Adam didn't answer.

He heard a sigh from the other side of the door, and then Tommy said, "Okay, well, I'm pretty sure you're in there, so … here goes."

Adam took a step toward the window, expecting to see Tommy step in front of it at any second, ready to smash it. Maybe that was what the guitar was for. Only, Tommy was a guitarist, and all the guitarists Adam had known before the curse would have sooner given up their place to live and taken to the streets than let anything happen to one of their guitars.

Instead of heading for the window, though, Tommy started in the other direction. Bemused, Adam watched through the sheer curtain covering the window as Tommy crossed to the railing next to the steps and sat down with his back to it, facing the house. Adam frowned as Tommy opened the guitar case and pulled the guitar out. Setting it in his lap, Tommy dug in his pocket, pulled out a pick, and started tuning the guitar. 

Taken completely off guard, Adam took another step toward the window. He hadn't heard the sound of anyone picking at strings to tune a guitar in over thirty years. Not since… Not since _before_. A wave of memories rushed over him.

Once he was through tuning the guitar, Tommy mumbled, "Here goes nothing," and started playing.

Adam recognized the song immediately as Johnny Cash's version of _Hurt_. Something inside him uncoiled as Tommy's fingers moved over the frets and picked at the strings. He didn't sing, just played, but it was _so good_ , it almost didn't need the words. Tommy made the notes sing all on their own. And standing there, hearing live music for the first time in what felt like forever… It sucked Adam in and before he knew it, he was at the window, pushing the curtain aside and staring out.

The song ended and Tommy looked up, freezing when their eyes met. It took a moment for Adam to figure out why Tommy looked so startled. At some point during the song, Adam's demon had retreated. He knew from experience that meant that he _looked_ human just then, even though it was just an illusion. He wasn't human. He hadn't been for a long time. He only ever wore what he thought of as his human mask when he had to go out in public. He didn't deserve to wear it any other time. Not since… 

Not for a long time. 

Angry at himself for letting down his guard, even just for a song, and angry at Tommy for making it possible, Adam's demon side surged to the forefront—fingers once again turning into claws, teeth lengthening and sharpening, black veins creeping across his pale, freckled skin—and roared at Tommy in warning. The window shook in its pane from the force of it, but all Tommy did was calmly stand up, holding Adam's gaze. 

"If you think that's gonna scare me off, think again," Tommy said, expression determined.

"Go away!" Adam growled, fist clenching at the curtain in one hand. He could hear ripping and guessed he was slicing holes in the sheer material.

Tommy stepped forward and stared hard at Adam for a long moment, as if searching for something in his gaze. Eventually, he stepped back again and said, "I'll go, but I'll be back tomorrow."

*

  


* 

True to his word, Tommy was back the next night. And the next. And the next several after that. About four days in, Adam gave up the pretense of watching from his upstairs window and instead took to waiting by the foyer window as Tommy walked up the path, always holding his guitar case. Adam hated to admit it, but at some point he'd stopped being angered by Tommy's visits and had started looking forward to them.

As he watched Tommy walk up the driveway yet again, he impulsively unlocked the door and opened it a crack. Turning away, he climbed the stairs and sat down at the top of them, out of sight. He listened as Tommy climbed the steps like usual and crossed to the door, also as usual. Instead of the usual knock, though, there was a long pause, and then the drawn out creak of the door slowly opening. More footsteps followed and the door clicked shut. 

"Hello?" Tommy called.

Adam clenched his jaw, hoping Tommy took the silence and his absence as a hint and just sat and played instead of trying to find him and talk to him like before. Thankfully, Tommy did and a moment later, there was rustling, like someone sitting down, and then the familiar snick of the latches on Tommy's guitar case echoed through the foyer and stairwell.

Clearing his throat, Tommy said, "Okay, so this one's a little different, but… I dunno. I guess I thought it might sorta, you know, fit you somehow?" There was a short pause, and then Tommy sighed. "Fuck it. I was looking for stuff to play for you and this popped up on YouTube and it just… It felt like _you_. Not that I like, know you. At _all_."

As the first few notes filled the air, Adam's forehead crinkled in confusion. It sounded familiar, but not. Finally, he placed it, forehead smoothing out, even as his eyebrows lifted in surprise. He'd only ever heard the song played much faster and on synth. He never would have thought to set it to acoustic guitar, let alone slow it down. It had the effect of turning it from something manic and strange into something slow and haunting. Wanting to hear it without the echoes caused by the stairwell, Adam quietly got to his feet and descended the stairs. He stopped near the bottom and sat on the fourth step up, facing Tommy, who was sitting on the foyer floor, back to the door.

Tommy looked up and their eyes locked for a second before Adam closed his, trying to pick the lyrics out of his memory. The words had spoken to him back when Tears for Fears had released it, but the music had never quite captured him. As he began to silently put lyrics to the melody, though, he found that Tommy's version made everything click. 

Without even really realizing he was doing it at first, Adam started singing softly, " _And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad. The dreams in which I'm dyin' are the best I've ever had…_ "

They continued on together, Tommy playing and Adam singing, until the last notes of the song finally faded away, leaving them sitting in silence. 

After a moment, Tommy said reverently, "Holy shit, dude. Your voice is, like… Holy _shit_."

Adam opened his eyes and focused on the wonder written across Tommy's face. Unsettled by it, and by the fact that he'd sung after so long denying himself, he chose to ignore Tommy's compliment, instead saying, "You're amazing on guitar. And that song… I never heard it played that way, or on guitar at all."

Tommy shrugged, head ducking a little and gaze cutting away as a faint blush crept up his cheeks. "Yeah, well, I can't take credit. There's this version on YouTube by Gary Jules that I found. All slow and hurty, and just… Yeah. His version's on piano, but it wasn't difficult to, like, translate that to guitar."

Adam stared hard at him, waiting until Tommy's gaze lifted and met his again. "I've been around plenty of guitarists in my time. It takes talent to translate music from one form to another, let alone make it work so well."

Tommy looked pleased and embarrassed in turns and Adam found himself wanting to walk over and pull him to his feet, pull him into his arms and kiss him soundly. Even though the thought wasn't a new one, the urge was so strong that it startled Adam and he started to stand, needing to get out of there before he did something stupid. Something dangerous.

Immediately, Tommy set aside his guitar and jumped to his feet. "No, wait. Please."

Adam hesitated, but settled back down on the steps, waiting to see what Tommy wanted.

Tommy hesitated for a second, then crossed to the stairs, stopping in front of Adam. Between how short Tommy was and how high up the steps Adam was sitting, they were almost eye level. Reaching out, Tommy traced his fingers over Adam's cheek. Adam clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to jerk away, to tell Tommy not to touch his ugliness, until he realized he'd inadvertently allowed his human mask to the forefront again.

"How do you do that?" Tommy asked quietly. "Change. Right now you look…"

"I look what?" Adam asked, a little breathlessly, Tommy's touch making him want things he couldn't have. Things he had no business wanting.

"You look human," Tommy admitted, almost apologetically. Searching Adam's gaze, Tommy asked, "Which one's the mask?"

"The human side," Adam said automatically.

Tommy frowned. "Then why is it that it comes out when I play?"

Adam scowled and pushed to his feet, towering over Tommy from where he stood on the bottom step. "It's time for you to go."

He turned and headed upstairs, but Tommy grabbed his wrist before he'd made it two steps, stopping him.

"Wait," Tommy said.

Adam's demon roared to life. Before he could rein it in, he'd jerked free of Tommy's hold, grabbed him around the neck, propelled him across the foyer and pinned him against the front door, snarling in his face. 

Eyes huge, Tommy went still in Adam's hold. He didn't even breathe, even though Adam wasn't squeezing. 

With effort, Adam took a deep breath and calmed himself. Dropping his hand, he said, "It's not a good idea to take me by surprise. I can't always control this … _thing_ inside me."

Tommy lifted his hands, palms out, in a placating gesture. "Sorry."

Adam turned and paced away, growling. When he turned back, Tommy was still in the same position, back against the door and hands palms out. 

"Why do you keep coming back?"

Tommy dropped his hands to his sides and shrugged. "I don't know. I just… I can't get you out of my head. I keep thinking about you stuck here all alone, cut off from everyone and … I can't stay away."

Adam crossed to one of the windows on the other side of the foyer and stared out at the moonlit yard. Even though he didn't understand how or why Tommy wanted to be anywhere near him after seeing his demon side, it appeared they felt the same pull, a fact that only made it more dangerous for them to be around each other. At least when it had only been one sided, when it had just been Adam needing to be near Tommy, it had been safe for Tommy. Now…

"Don't," Adam bit out. "Don't think about me. Don't worry about me, or feel sympathy for me, or whatever it is you're feeling. I don't deserve it."

"Why?" Tommy asked, sounding baffled.

Adam whipped around to face Tommy again, anger at the situation and fear for Tommy surging to the forefront. Trying to scare Tommy to hopefully get the point across, Adam crossed the room and crowded Tommy's space, saying in a hard voice, "Because I _killed_ two of my lovers." Lips twisting up in a cruel smile, Adam lifted a claw-tipped finger and ran it down along the side of Tommy's neck, digging in just a little. "Wanna be the third?"

Tommy's swallow would have been audible, even if Adam hadn't had superior hearing, so it took Adam off guard when Tommy said, "You're a complete asshole, you know that?" instead of running for his life the instant Adam dropped his hand and backed away.

Adam's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"I just wanted to help somehow. Thought maybe you could use a friend or something. I know the guitar wasn't much, but with the whole," he paused and gestured at his face with a hand, then continued, "human thing coming out when I played, I figured that maybe it did help. I guess not."

He pushed off the door, grabbed up his guitar and case, and without stopping to put the guitar back inside, yanked the front door open, stomped out, and slammed it shut behind him. 

Adam wrestled with the insane urge to go after Tommy, to apologize and ask him to come back tomorrow night, but in the end, he just stood there staring at the closed door for a long time after Tommy left, telling himself it was better this way. Safer. Adam might have hurt his feelings, but hurt feelings were better than ending up dead.

*

* 

Tommy was still fuming three days later. Not constantly, just whenever he thought about Adam, which, if he was honest with himself, was about every other minute since he met the bastard.

He still didn't know _what_ exactly Adam was. Adam said he was a demon, but there was more to it than that, Tommy was almost sure. Adam had also said his human side was just an illusion, but Tommy was pretty sure there was more to that, too. 

Tommy came to that conclusion on the fourth day after their fight, when he finally calmed down and considered the whole thing objectively. And objectively, Tommy had to admit that no matter that Adam had gone out of his way to be cruel to Tommy, to drive him off, there had been an underlying fear in his eyes. 

Fear for Tommy, not himself. 

Adam had been trying to warn him away. Tommy was sure of it. And if he was doing that, it meant he gave a damn, and if he gave a damn, there had to be some scrap of humanity in him still, right?

Right. Which was why Tommy was currently headed back to the mansion after five days away, guitar in hand once again.

Marching straight up the stairs of the porch, Tommy knocked on the door. When there was no answer as usual, Tommy tried the doorknob. He'd fully expected it to be locked, but it wasn't. Stepping inside, Tommy looked around, but there was no trace of Adam. If he was there somewhere, he was hiding in the shadows.

"Adam?" Tommy asked, setting his guitar down against the wall next to the door.

No answer. 

"Adam!" Tommy called louder.

Still no answer. 

Refusing to be ignored, Tommy started for the stairs, deciding the best place to look first would be Adam's bedroom. He climbed the two flights to the third floor, then crossed the hall to Adam's room. 

Hesitating with his hand on the knob, Tommy knocked once more and said, "I'm coming in."

No response, not that Tommy had really expected one.

Opening the door, he stepped inside and glanced around, finding Adam standing in front of the window with his back to Tommy.

"Why won't you just stay the fuck away?" Adam asked, sounding weary.

"Because you haven't given me a good enough reason to," Tommy said stubbornly.

Adam turned slowly, face in shadows. "Your imminent death if you stick around isn't a good enough reason?"

Going for lighthearted, Tommy shrugged and said, "You said you killed two of your lovers. We're not lovers, and since it's really unlikely I’m gonna trip and fall on your dick, I think I'm pretty safe."

Adam shook his head. "This isn't a joke. Go home, Tommy. Forget you ever met me."

"No," Tommy said, his rebellious streak rearing its head, but more than that, a sudden tight feeling spread through his chest at the thought of not seeing Adam again, even though realistically he barely knew the guy. "Now, I'm gonna go back downstairs and play a couple of songs. I really hope you come down and sing again. Your voice is fucking amazing."

Not waiting for a response, Tommy turned and walked out. When he reached the foyer, he pulled out his guitar, sat on the floor under a window and started playing. He'd only gotten out a few bars, though, before Adam was suddenly in front of him, snatching the guitar out of his hands.

"What—" Tommy started, only for Adam to interrupt.

"You have to leave," Adam whispered urgently.

"What? Why?" Tommy asked, scrambling to his feet.

"Teenagers. They're on their way up the drive to check out the supposedly haunted house," Adam explained. "It's not going to be very convincing if they find you in here."

Tommy crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not going anywhere."

Adam growled and the next thing Tommy knew he was upside down and over Adam's shoulder, the stairs speeding by as Adam carried him up two flights faster than Tommy could blink. When Adam set him down, they were in a closet in Adam's bedroom.

"Seriously," Tommy said, irritated. "Why does everyone think that because I’m tiny it's alright to just pick me up and carry me around?"

"If you won't leave, I have to hide you," Adam said by way of explanation, stepping in close.

Tommy tried to take a step back, but Adam's arm snaked around his waist, pulling him in tight. 

"What are you—"

"Hold on," Adam said gruffly.

Sensing it would be in his best interests to listen, Tommy wrapped his arms around Adam's neck. One second, they were in the closet of Adam's bedroom, the next, Tommy's stomach had bottomed out and they were standing in what looked like the attic, next to a hole in the floor.

Glancing around at what appeared to be an art studio, Tommy said, "Holy fuck."

"Stay here," Adam ordered, turning to head back down the hole.

"Wait," Tommy said, grabbing Adam's arm. "My guitar."

Adam cursed. Shaking free of Tommy's hold, he disappeared down the hole, only to reappear a few seconds later, holding Tommy's guitar and case. 

Staring hard at Tommy, Adam said, "Stay put and don't touch anything. I'll be back as soon as I get rid of them."

Tommy nodded and watched Adam disappear down the hole again. After he was gone, Tommy carefully placed his guitar back in the case, then stood, looking around. The attic was virtually dust free, much like Adam's room. There were a couple of tables nearby, one covered with a white cloth, jars of paint scattered across the surface, the other bare wood. Next to the cloth-covered one were a couple of easels, also covered with cloth. Leaning against three of the walls were more cloth-covered canvases. 

Tommy hesitated. Adam had told him not to touch anything, but after a few minutes, curiosity got the best of him and with a quick glance at the hole Adam had disappeared down, he headed for them. Crouching down, he lifted the bottom corner of one and peeked underneath. He couldn't see a lot in the dark, though, so with another slight hesitation, he picked it up and carried it over to a window at one end of the attic. 

With his back to the window so that moonlight splashed across the canvas, Tommy lifted the sheet covering it and just … stared. The painting was amazing. It was some sort of mashup of Greek mythological creatures and astrological signs and rushing water. The lines and the colors were so vivid that they jumped right off the canvas at Tommy, literally taking his breath away for a second. 

Reverently, Tommy dropped the cloth back over the top of it to protect it and set it back in place along one wall. He looked at a few others, all just as amazing and just as trippy, before he found himself standing in front of one of the easels. Since it was already facing the moonlight, he didn't need to move it to see. 

Lifting the sheet, he froze for a second at the familiar face staring back at him. His face. Adam was painting _him_. It was clearly unfinished, but even so, it was so … lifelike. Tommy wasn't sure whether to be flattered or creeped out.

Deciding to be flattered, he dropped the cloth and moved on to a set of canvases leaning against the wall opposite the window, just beyond the easel. They were bathed in moonlight too. Glancing at the hole again, he listened for a moment. There hadn't been any screaming so far, so he was pretty sure he had time yet.

Crouching down, he lifted the cloth from the nearest canvas and tensed. It was him again. This one was a finished painting. It was of him sitting in the foyer, playing guitar. He was caught between awe at Adam's skill and a flutter of wariness.

Glancing at the next canvas over, Tommy hesitated only a second before lifting the cloth covering it. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't. It was him yet again, but this time he was standing in front of his house, blond hair sticking straight up in his old style, back before he'd dyed it and had it cut asymmetrical. Meaning, back before he'd come to the house the first time with his friends. 

Heart hammering in his chest, Tommy dropped the cloth and stood, stumbling backwards. Downstairs, he heard a roar, screams, then footsteps and the front door slamming shut. Tommy hurried to the middle of the room just in time for Adam to shoot up through the hole in the attic floor and land gracefully on his feet.

Adam took one look at him and frowned. "What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, Tommy started for the hole. "Nothing. I just, uh, forgot I'm supposed to play with the band at a bar tonight. I'm gonna be late if I don't go now."

"Oh," Adam said, looking vaguely disappointed. "Okay. Come on. I'll get you down."

Tommy hesitated before stepping in close. He held his breath as Adam slipped an arm around him and pulled him in tight, then jumped down to the third floor with him. There was a brief moment between Tommy's feet touching the floor of the closet and Adam letting him go where they simply stood pressed together, staring at each other. 

Tommy's mind blanked on everything but the clear blue of Adam's eyes as his demon features melted away. Adam leaned in a little and Tommy's breath caught in his throat, sure Adam was about to kiss him. Instead, though, Adam froze. An instant later, his eyes bled back to black, the spidery veins crept back over his skin and his bone structure in his face contorted again. 

Before Tommy could even blink at the sudden change, Adam released him to jump back up for his guitar. Shell shocked, Tommy stayed where Adam left him, mind swimming. When Adam had held him, he hadn't _felt_ like a monster, even when he'd looked like one. He didn't feel like an obsessed psycho, either. He felt like… He felt like _Adam_. He felt right. More accurately, it felt right to be in his arms. And if he'd kissed Tommy the way it seemed like he'd wanted to, Tommy was pretty sure that would have felt right, too, even though Tommy had never had an urge to kiss a guy before in his life.

Adam jumped back down through the hole, startling Tommy out of his thoughts, and they headed downstairs. At the door, Tommy paused and turned back to Adam. "Sorry. About running off like this. I just, like, totally spaced on the gig."

"Sure," Adam said, looking like he didn't believe a word of Tommy's excuse, even though he was apparently willing to go along with it.

Thankful for that, Tommy offered him a strained smile, yanked the door open, and all but ran out. He made it out of the driveway and halfway down the next block before he finally stopped to take a breath and consider what he'd just found out. Adam had known who he was before Tommy stepped foot in the mansion the first time. That much was obvious from the painting set in front of his house with his old haircut. 

Oh shit. His house. Adam knew where he lived. More importantly, Adam had been there enough times to be able to paint it from memory. Tommy hadn't even had a clue anyone was watching him.

Tensing, Tommy glanced around, wondering if Adam was there right then, lurking in the shadows. He almost called out, almost told Adam to come out if he was there, but frankly, he didn't really want to know if he was. He just wanted to forget the whole thing. That decided, he all but ran the rest of the way home.

*

  


* 

Three nights later, Tommy had no choice but to leave the apartment to go to the grocery store. It was either that or starve, since everything in the kitchen was either stale or growing something fuzzy. He tried to make the trip a quick one, but apparently he hadn't been quick enough, because when he got home and climbed out of his car with a grocery bag in his arms, it was to the distinct feeling that he wasn't alone. Freezing in his tracks, he scanned the bushes on one side of the building, then the shadows on the other, which were cast by a huge, old oak tree.

Gathering his courage, Tommy said, "I know you're there, Adam."

Stepping out of the shadows, Adam crossed the driveway, stopping a few feet away, human face hiding the black veins and contorted features Tommy had grown used to seeing. "Hi."

"What are you doing?" Tommy asked, brushing aside the greeting.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You haven't come out to the mansion in a few days."

"Yeah, well, you said to stay away. I'm staying away," Tommy replied.

"I said that before the last time you showed up, but you still came back. What changed?" Adam asked.

Tommy pressed his lips together and looked away.

He could see Adam step closer out of the corner of his eye, but he refused to take a step back, refused to give Adam that kind of power. Still, he nearly jumped three feet in the air when Adam reached out and hooked a finger under his chin, bringing his face around until Tommy met his gaze.

Adam stared at him for a moment, then dropped his hand, expression closing off. "You saw the paintings. You know."

"Yeah, I did," Tommy snapped. "How long, Adam?"

It was Adam's turn to look away, to refuse to meet Tommy's eyes. 

Through clenched teeth, Tommy repeated, "How long, Adam?"

Meeting Tommy's gaze again, Adam said quietly, "About six months."

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Tommy asked, "Why?"

Something in Adam's expression hardened. "Because I'm a monster." 

"Well stop it," Tommy retorted. "It's a total creeper move. I don't need you lurking around in my goddamn bushes, okay?"

Adam growled low in his throat and his face rippled, as if he was having a hard time holding the demon at bay. "Don't worry. I won't bother you again."

With that, he turned and stalked off, disappearing back into the shadows. Tommy stood there for a long minute, mixed emotions warring inside him. Giving in to the anger, he shouted in frustration, then stomped into the apartment, cursing Adam the whole way. 

Fuck him. Fuck him and his awesome voice. And fuck him and his lies and his stalking and everything else about him. A month ago, Tommy hadn't even known Adam existed and he'd been doing just fine without him in his life. He'd do just fine now, too.


	4. Chapter 4

Adam sat in his attic, staring at the painting of Tommy that he'd finished earlier that day. It had been nearly a week since the argument in Tommy's driveway and keeping his distance was killing him. He kept telling himself it was for the best that Tommy had finally seen him for what he really was and cut all ties, but he couldn't quite suppress the part of himself that wished Tommy would change his mind and come back around, bring his guitar and play for him.

But none of that happened, and because of that, Adam was considering moving on. Maybe a fresh start somewhere else would be good for him. He'd been living here for seven years now. Maybe he should move down by San Diego for a while. He had family there, even if they didn't know they had him.

Adam was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear or smell anyone approaching the house until there was a knock on the door. Frowning, Adam jumped through the hole and raced down to the foyer. Sniffing the air, his eyes widened and his pulse quickened when he recognized Tommy's scent.

Trying not to look too eager, he opened the door. "Tommy, hi."

Tommy glowered at him. "Can I come in?"

Adam frowned at the expression on Tommy's face and the irritation in his voice. If he hadn't forgiven Adam, what the hell was he doing there? Still, Adam stepped aside and motioned him in.

Once inside, Tommy started to pace, not speaking a word. Adam closed the door and watched him, bemused.

Finally Tommy stopped and turned to face Adam, a knowing look on his face that made Adam tense, even before he spoke. "I figured out what you meant by what you said outside my house and you're a total asshole for letting me think you meant something else."

Adam tensed further. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Tommy rolled his eyes, expression shifting from irritated to exasperated. "Yes you do. When I asked you why you'd been following me, you told me it was because you were a monster."

"Not much to misunderstand about that," Adam said coolly, even though his gut was twisting in on itself with worry that Tommy _had_ actually figured him out.

"Uh huh," Tommy said. "Except for how you let me believe you meant you were following me because it's what monsters do."

"That was what I meant," Adam snapped.

Tommy's eyes narrowed and he crossed the room, stopping directly in front of Adam. Poking a finger at Adam's chest, he said, "You're a fucking liar. You really meant that you were following me because you thought you were protecting me from the demon by keeping your distance, didn't you? Either that or you thought you didn't deserve to have friends or some shit, right? Either way, you're a dumbass."

Adam growled, his ever-present anger that was always riding so close to the surface due to the demon's influence, snapping. He grabbed Tommy's wrist and yanked his hand away from his chest. The sudden move pulled Tommy off balance and he stumbled forward, right into Adam. 

Grabbing a handful of the hair at the back of Tommy's head, Adam tugged at it until Tommy was looking up at him. Leaning in until their noses were practically touching, Adam growled out, "No. I followed you around, lurking in the shadows, because that's. What. Monsters. _Do_."

"Bullshit," Tommy retorted, even though Adam could smell the nervousness wafting off him. "You're not a monster. You're cursed, yeah, and it sucks, but—"

"Shut up," Adam warned, dropping Tommy's wrist and grabbing his throat threateningly.

"Fuck you," Tommy said defiantly. "Make me."

Instead of squeezing off Tommy's air—it had been an empty threat anyway, there was no way Adam would ever do anything to hurt Tommy and apparently Tommy knew that—Adam used his hold on Tommy's throat to angle his head just right, and leaned in. 

He managed to stop himself a hair's breadth from Tommy's lips, sure he was reading the signals wrong, sure Tommy's fast heartbeat and sudden breathlessness were due to fear, not arousal, but when he flicked his gaze up from Tommy's lips to his eyes, he found pupils blown with heat and need instead of the fear he'd expected.

Fighting back the demon's urge to just _take_ , Adam said gruffly, "Tell me to stop."

"No," Tommy answered breathlessly.

That was all the invitation Adam needed.

*

  


*

Heat shot through Tommy's body the instant Adam's mouth crashed down on his. Almost immediately Adam's tongue came into play, licking at the seams of Tommy's lips, not so much asking for entrance as demanding it.

Tommy moaned and parted his lips, allowing Adam in without hesitation, even though it was the first time in his life he'd ever kissed a guy, not counting the joking kisses that he gave his friends, or the sloppy, drunk affectionate ones. This was a real, honest-to-fuck kiss. He _wanted_ to feel Adam's lips pressed against his, _wanted_ to taste the inside of Adam's mouth, _wanted_ to let him taste Tommy's. 

The longer the kiss went on, the more lost in it Tommy got, until he felt himself sway forward. Adam let go of Tommy's throat in response and reached down, circling Tommy's waist. His other hand remained in Tommy's hair, keeping his head angled just the way Adam wanted it. A jolt of lust so powerful it rocked Tommy to his core shot through him and Tommy grabbed at Adam's shirt, needing something to hold on to, something to ground him. 

And then he felt it, Adam's dick—his _hard_ dick—pressed into Tommy's belly. The shock of it was enough to snap Tommy out of the spell of want the kiss had woven around him. Tommy pushed at Adam's chest, and surprisingly, even though the hold Adam had on him had been demanding and the way he'd kissed him had been possessive, Adam immediately released him. 

Tommy stumbled back a couple of steps and panted, trying to catch his breath and get his heart rate under control. Running a hand through his hair, he looked everywhere but at Adam, feeling ridiculous for reacting like that. He'd known going in Adam was a guy, complete with a dick. Why he'd suddenly panicked when he'd felt the evidence of it against his stomach, he didn't understand. 

Hot on the heels of that, though, was a wave of shock. What the fuck? Like, seriously. What the actual fuck? He'd never been attracted to a guy before. Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was his crush on Gavin Rossdale, and Jared Leto, and Ian Somerhalder, and… Yeah. So he'd had crushes. But never on a guy standing right in front of him, and never so much so that he actually wanted to _do_ anything about it. Even if he met Gavin or Jared or Ian, he doubted his first instinct would be to jump their bones. They were harmless crushes. Just an appreciation of a few really cool, talented, good-looking guys.

But this… This thing with Adam. It was more than that. If Tommy was honest with himself, it had been more than that since the first time they met. It was why Tommy couldn't get Adam out of his head, why he'd felt the urge to come back, to draw Adam out with music, and it was why he was there right then, why he'd confronted Adam with the truth of what he'd said last week outside Tommy's house. And it was why he couldn't stay away, even after he'd been warned off. There was something there. Something drawing him in. 

Pulling himself together, Tommy looked up and met Adam's eyes, the black veins snaking across Adam's face barely even registering. At some point he'd stopped seeing Adam as a monster at all. He was just Adam. Just the guy Tommy apparently wanted to kiss and touch and possibly … more.

Tommy swallowed. "Sorry. Had a minor freak out about kissing a dude. About really, really _wanting_ to kiss a dude, actually. I'm done now, though," he babbled on when Adam remained silent, "if you, like, wanna try it again."

"I'm not a dude," Adam bit out, his tone full of self-loathing. "I'm not even human. I'm a _monster_. You should be freaking out."

"Fuck that," Tommy retorted. "You've got a human side. I've seen it, so stop with the bullshit."

Adam growled and the next thing Tommy knew, he was right in front of him, claws digging into Tommy's upper arms, veiny face and black eyes inches from Tommy's. "You're wrong. The human side of me died a long time ago. I tried to bring him back, to push down the demon and live as a human, but it didn't work, and the men I tried to do it with paid the price with their _lives_."

Pushing down the perfectly rational jolt of fear Adam's aggression sent racing through him, Tommy stood his ground. "You keep saying that, but you haven't told me _how_ they died."

Adam bared jagged teeth and snarled at Tommy, but when Tommy didn't back down he growled out, "I fell in love with them. _That's_ how they died."

Tommy blinked. "How does falling in love with someone kill them?"

Adam shoved away from Tommy and spun around, pacing across the expanse of the foyer. Reaching a wall, he punched it, sending his fist straight through. Yanking free again, he turned on Tommy once more, ink black eyes stormy with emotion.

"Because of the curse. The _curse_ killed them. I'm not allowed to love anyone or be happy. Ever. I'm cursed to live an eternity alone and miserable. As a monster. The minute I fall in love, the curse takes it away, and it does it by killing the person I'm in love with."

Tommy frowned. Even though he could see the evidence of the curse physically manifested in front of him, he was still having a hard time wrapping his brain around the fact that that shit was real. 

"But how? I don't get it. Did you, like, lose your temper and kill them? Or did they have some kind of accident, or—"

"We had sex," Adam spat. "We fell asleep, and the next morning I woke up with their dead bodies lying next to me. They just … stopped breathing in the middle of the night. Just like that."

"Oh," Tommy said, getting the picture and not knowing what to say. It was kind of hard to fight against something that stole your life while you slept.

Adam exhaled and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Leaning back against the wall next to the front door, he said quietly, "I've wanted you since the moment I met you. You were right about why I stayed in the shadows, why I never approached you. I was trying to protect you from my curse."

Tommy took a deep breath and admitted, "Then we've got a problem, because I've tried to stay away but I can't. It's like … you've got some kind of hold on me. I can't explain it."

Adam leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. His voice had a desperate quality when he spoke again. "You have to try. For both of us. I'm not strong enough. The demon … it saps away my self-control. You need to want to live more than you want to be near me."

Tommy cursed under his breath. He knew Adam was right. He knew he should walk out of there and never look back, but he just couldn't. 

At a loss, he said, "How the fuck did this happen? We barely know each other."

"We know enough," Adam replied, head coming up and eyes opening to focus on Tommy. "And the music … it tells you more about a person than words could ever say."

Tommy stared at Adam for a long moment, coming to a decision. "I don't need to leave yet, do I? If I've gotta walk away, I want to know stuff about you first. I wanna know exactly how and why this happened, what you were like before, what you do with those paintings in the attic, and—"

"Shh," Adam said, suddenly in front of Tommy, one clawed finger pressed against Tommy's lips. "Okay, but all we do is talk. I won't be responsible for your death, too."

Tommy nodded and they spent the rest of the night together. Adam told him about how he'd been on the verge of stardom during the height of the glam era, how he'd picked up a guy in a bar in New Orleans the night he signed his recording deal to celebrate, how the next day the guy had tracked him down, scared, and warned him that his boyfriend had found out and put a curse on Adam in a jealous fit of rage. Then Adam told him how he had blown it off until he got on a flight back to California. 

Tommy's heart ached and a knot formed in his throat when Adam described the crash and the death and the pain, and how it had all melted away in an instant. He'd healed but everyone around him had died. 

That had been the first time Adam had felt the demon inside him. Over the years, the demon had fed off his misery, taking over more and more of his mind and his body until it started to manifest physically, turning him into an ugly, twisted perversion of nature.

When Tommy started home in the early morning light, it was with a heavy heart, knowing he had to stay away but not wanting to. He climbed the steps to his apartment, wracking his brain for any way around the curse, but unable to come up with a single solid idea.

He went to bed that night still thinking about it. He dreamed about it, about being with Adam, about the curse. When he woke up the next morning, it was still on his mind and stayed there most of the day. It was when he was eating dinner with Anderson and Anderson stole fries off his plate that Tommy finally came up with a solution, shitty solution though it was.

Smacking Anderson's hand away, Tommy said, "Get your own fries, bitch."

Anderson's glossy lips shaped into a pout. "I can't. I'll gain weight."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "It's the same amount of calories whether it's on my plate or yours."

Anderson shrugged. "It's really not. Ask any woman. If it's not on your plate it doesn't count. It's like some kind of fucked up magic or something. As long as it's stolen, there aren't any consequences."

Tommy frowned, lost in thought while Anderson snatched up the last of his fries. By the time Anderson dropped him off at his place afterwards, Tommy thought maybe he had a solution—shitty as it was—to his and Adam's problem. 

Hurrying into the house for supplies, he told Dave not to wait up for him and raced back out, heading in the direction of the mansion.

*

*

Having seen him running toward the house from his bedroom window, Adam made it to the bottom of the stairs just as Tommy burst through the front door. Closing the door behind him, Tommy took several deep breaths.

"What's going on?" Adam asked, taking a step toward Tommy, senses on high alert in case Tommy was in some kind of danger. "What are you doing here? We agreed—"

"Shut up," Tommy interrupted, taking another deep breath, this one slower, more controlled. "Just give me a second. I ran all the way here from my house."

Adam frowned. "But you're all right?"

"Pathetically out of shape, apparently, but yeah, I'm okay."

Adam relaxed a little, trying to give Tommy a chance to say whatever it was he had to say, but as the moment dragged out, curiosity got the better of him. "What's going on?"

Instead of answering, Tommy marched over and stopped inches from him. Reaching up, he cupped Adam's face in his hands, distorted features and all, and pulled his head down. Their lips met and Adam groaned. The kiss had barely started and already he felt heat suffuse his body, just like the other night. 

Pulling himself back to his senses just in time, Adam jerked free of Tommy's hold, breaking the kiss, and stumbled back a step. "Tommy, don't. I can't-I can't kill you too."

"You won't," Tommy said, taking a step forward for every one Adam took backwards, until Adam was once again at the base of the steps. 

"I told you—"

"About the curse. Yeah, I know," Tommy said. "I figured out a way around it."

Adam shook his head. "Don't you think if there was a way around it I would've found it by now?"

Tommy frowned. "Well, it's not really a solution, exactly, more of a band aid." He paused and bit his bottom lip, then added, "One of those really sticky ones that hurt like a bitch to pull off."

"I have no idea what that means," Adam said.

Tommy took a deep breath and said, "So the curse basically wants you to stay lonely and heartbroken forever, right?"

"Yeah," Adam said.

"Okay, not that my ego is, like, huge or anything, but I'm assuming you're miserable because we can't ever be together, right? I mean, I know I am, and it seems like from the things you said the other night that—"

"Yes," Adam said, interrupting Tommy's babbling. "I am."

"So," Tommy said, "if we're gonna both be miserable anyway, why not have at least one night together first?"

Adam scowled. "Because I'd wake up tomorrow with you dead beside me."

Tommy shook his head. "No you won't."

He sounded so sure. Adam just didn't understand how he could be. "What? How?"

"You won't because I won't be here," Tommy explained. "From what you told me last night, the common denominator between the guys you slept with who died was that you fell for each other, had sex, and planned to, like, stay together. To be together."

"So?"

" _So_ ," Tommy said impatiently, "you were _happy_ when you fell asleep. You had this whole future you were planning in your head with those guys. That was the difference between the ones that died after having sex with you and the others you told me about that you just picked up at clubs to scratch an itch, right?"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't be just scratching an itch with you," Adam said, shaking his head. "I couldn't trick myself into believing that even if I wanted to."

"That's not what I'm…" Tommy trailed off, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I’m not saying it would be casual. I'm saying that we'll go into this knowing that afterwards I'm walking out that door and we'll never be together again."

" _No_ ," Adam practically roared, appalled at the idea. 

Tommy glared. "Let me finish, damn it." 

Adam glared back for a full minute before grudgingly relenting with a slight nod.

"Are you gonna let me finish before you get all growly and alpha beast on me?" Tommy asked angrily.

Adam's scowl deepened, but he said gruffly, "Yes."

"Okay," Tommy replied. "So afterwards, I walk out and that's it for us. If you don't think there'll be a happily ever after, the curse won't kick in." Apparently afraid Adam was going to shoot him down again, Tommy rushed to add, "It's a shitty solution, I know, but at least we'd have this one night together. It's not enough by a long shot, but honestly, I'd rather that than wonder for the rest of my life what it would've been like to be with you." He cringed a little and added, "And holy shit. I'm paraphrasing Dirty Dancing. Say something so I'll stop babbling."

Adam just stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say. On the one hand, he didn't know if he could handle the heartbreak of watching Tommy walk out the door and out of his life afterwards, but on the other hand, Tommy had a point. If they were going to be miserable either way….

Almost before he knew what he was doing, Adam reached out and pulled Tommy into his arms, kissing him soundly.

Tommy huffed out a surprised squeak, but then he was kissing back, giving every bit of Adam's passion and need back to him. They clutched at each other as if they were drowning and their only hope was to hold on to one another. Maybe because it was.

Trying to slow things down, at least a little, Adam tore his mouth from Tommy's and said, "Bed. Now."

Tommy nodded, but otherwise didn't move.

Adam hesitated. "Um … upstairs?"

Tommy's eyebrows shot up his forehead. " _Now_ you want me to walk? I kinda figured you were going to zip me up there in, like, two seconds flat or some—"

Adam leaned down and threw Tommy over his shoulder, then raced up the stairs. In not much more than the two seconds Tommy had estimated, he had Tommy's feet back on the floor next to his bed in his third story bedroom. 

"—shit," Tommy finished, glancing around and chuckling. "Yeah. Like that."

Reaching up, Adam trailed a clawed finger down the side of Tommy's neck and under the edge of his t-shirt as he said, "I could get rid of your clothes just as fast, but I think I'd rather undress you slowly."

Tommy swallowed audibly. "Yeah. Me too."

Adam stared into Tommy's eyes and an understanding passed between them. If this was going to be the only time, they wanted to savor every last second.

Taking his time, Adam undressed Tommy and laid him out on the bed, before backing off to strip out of his own clothes. Once he was naked too, he climbed onto the bed, hovering over Tommy on his hands and knees.

Seeing the nervousness in Tommy's eyes and remembering that Tommy had more or less admitted that he'd never wanted a guy before Adam, made it hit home that this was going to be Tommy's first and probably only time with a man. 

That in mind, Adam asked quietly, "Are you sure about this?" 

Tommy bit his bottom lip and nodded. "I'm sure. Just nervous."

Adam closed his eyes and forced the demon back, feeling his claws retract into regular human hands, and jagged, sharp fang-like teeth smooth out into blunt human ones. Human in appearance at least, he opened his eyes once again and leaned down, taking Tommy's lips in a soft, tender kiss. 

"I'll take care of you," Adam murmured against Tommy's mouth afterwards.

Tommy nibbled at Adam's bottom lip and said, "I know you will. Just…"

"Just what?" Adam asked between kisses.

"Just, you don't need to be, like, gentle or some shit. I won't break."

"You might. I'm strong," Adam quipped, trying to break the tension thrumming between them.

It worked and Tommy chuckled. "Yeah, okay. No broken bones or anything, but marks are fine. I mean, I want them," Tommy said, expression turning serious again. "When I wake up in my own bed tomorrow, I don't want to have to wonder if this really happened. I wanna _know_ it did."

Adam growled. He wanted that too. Very much. Just one more way they were perfect for each other, he realized, a pain hitting him square in the gut as a result. Tommy was right, he wasn't going to be happy after this. Hell, he wasn't going to be completely happy during it, knowing what was coming after, but he needed it just the same.

Leaning down, Adam kissed Tommy again, but while the last kiss had been gentle, tender, this one was hard and full of need and urgency. Under him, Tommy whimpered and reached up, threading his fingers through Adam's hair and pressing their lips together even harder.

Adam lowered his body down onto Tommy's, groaning when Tommy instinctively spread his legs to accommodate him. Grinding their cocks together, Adam kissed and bit and licked his way from Tommy's mouth to his jaw and down the side of his neck, leaving marks along the way. He made his way to Tommy's chest, where he sucked a nipple into his mouth and nibbled at it until Tommy was arching up against him, hands gripping Adam's hair painfully tight, babbled pleas for more falling from his lips. 

After giving Tommy's other nipple the same attention, he moved down Tommy's body to his belly, licking every inch of skin he could reach along the way. He bypassed Tommy's cock to suck and bite as his inner thighs, bringing up marks there, too, not relenting until Tommy's entire body was shaking and he sounded near tears. Finally, he sucked Tommy's cock into his mouth and down his throat.

Tommy screamed and arched off the bed, coming immediately. Surprised but pleased, Adam swallowed everything down before pulling off and kissing his way back up Tommy's body. Every time his lips touched skin, Tommy jerked and tried to squirm away, as if the stimulation was too much for him just then.

Flinging an arm over his eyes, Tommy said, "Oh my God," as Adam rose up over him. "That was so fucking embarrassing."

Adam chuckled, settling down on top of him, his hard dick cradled in the crease where Tommy's leg met his pelvis. "I took it as a compliment."

Tommy hit Adam's arm with his free hand. "Shut up, fucker." Uncovering his eyes, he looked up at Adam and said, "You should. Best blowjob I've ever had. Fuck."

Adam grinned, until he remembered it was the only one he'd ever be able to give Tommy. The only time he'd taste him. The only time he'd feel him swell and pulse down his throat.

What he was thinking must have registered on his face because Tommy reached up and cupped Adam's jaw in his hands and said, "Hey, don't. After… There'll be time after. Not now, okay?"

Closing his eyes, Adam took a deep breath. Doing his best to push the misery away, he opened them again and stared down at Tommy. "Okay, yeah."

Tommy stared back at him for a prolonged moment, then leaned up and kissed Adam soundly, saying into his mouth, "Now fuck me already."

Regret slammed through Adam, fast and hard. Pulling back enough to look down into Tommy's face, he admitted, "I can't. I didn't know this was going to happen. I don't have anything."

Tommy shoved Adam off him and rolled to the side, reaching over the edge of the bed. He came back up with his jeans in one hand, his other reaching into the pocket. "Lucky for you, my parents forced me to join the boy scouts when I was a kid. I came prepared."

He pulled out condoms and lube and handed them to Adam, then dropped his jeans and laid back down, knees bent, feet flat on the bed, legs spread. Adam had never seen such a gorgeous, erotic sight in his life.

Setting the condoms aside, Adam opened the lube and slicked up his fingers, then reached between Tommy's legs and found his hole. Tommy sucked in a breath and his heartbeat stuttered in his chest as Adam rubbed over it. He waited until Tommy relaxed back on the bed and started moaning at the feeling of being touched there before slowly sliding his finger inside. 

Tommy's breath caught, then released on a low groan of appreciation. His legs fell further open and Adam nearly lost the tight control he had over his demon right then, the urge to take what Tommy was offering and rut into his body nearly overwhelming. Somehow, he managed to keep himself in check. The last thing he wanted was for his claws to come out when his finger was up Tommy's ass. 

As patiently as he could manage, Adam stretched Tommy open on one, then two, then three fingers. By the time he was satisfied that he wouldn't be hurting Tommy when he entered him, Tommy was hard again and moaning.

Opening one of the condoms, Adam got himself ready and moved into position between Tommy's legs. Tommy stared up at him and let his thighs fall wide open in invitation. Grabbing Tommy by the back of his knees, Adam pulled them up onto his lap and positioned himself at Tommy's hole. Watching in awe as he slid inside Tommy's body inch by inch, Adam held his breath, unable to believe it was really happening.

"Oh fuck," Tommy said brokenly, reaching for the top edge of the mattress. He grabbed on, eyes squeezed shut and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Too fast?" Adam asked breathlessly, stopping all movement.

Tommy shook his head sharply, eyes flying open. "No. Don't you dare fucking stop."

Adam grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Holding on to Tommy's thighs, Adam started pushing in again, not stopping until he bottomed out, Tommy's muscles gripping him tight. After a moment, he pulled partway out, then thrust back in slowly, giving Tommy time to adjust to a cock moving inside him for the first time.

"Christ," Tommy panted, doing his best to push into Adam's thrusts with what little leverage he had. "Feel-feels fucking weird," he admitted, then added, "weird but _amazing_."

Hooking one leg, then the other over his arms, Adam dug his fingers into Tommy's hips, pulling him in tighter so he could grind deeper into him on the next thrust. Tommy made a broken sound and let go of his grip on the mattress with one hand to reach for Adam. 

Bracing his hands on the bed on either side of Tommy, Adam leaned over him, nearly bending him in two to get to his mouth. Tommy caught hold of Adam's head and pulled him in the rest of the way. Licking his way into Tommy's mouth, Adam thrust into his body again and swallowed Tommy's moans of pleasure. 

How many times had he dreamt of this? Wished for it? How many times had he gone to sleep sure that he'd never have Tommy in his bed? Except … now he did. Tommy was right there, under him, writhing and begging for more and deeper and harder, and the only catch was the worst thing Adam could ever imagine. It was that after this, after finally having Tommy, all of him—heart, soul and body—he'd have to give him up. Watch him walk away and never be with him again.

That was the painful thought running through his head when Tommy arched under him, head thrown back, neck strained as he cried out in pleasure, come shooting from his cock all over the both of them. And when Adam's body gave him no choice but to follow Tommy over the edge, hips stuttering out of rhythm, pleasure racing through his veins as he slammed in one last time and let go, it was with a heavy heart that he collapsed down on top of Tommy, face buried in Tommy's neck as he held back the sob of heartbreak trying to rip its way free.

"Ho-holy fuck," Tommy said a moment later, sounding completely blissed out, arms and legs wrapped tight around Adam. 

Adam breathed in Tommy's scent, slightly salty with sweat just then, and allowed it to calm him. He still had Tommy there, at least for the moment. He didn't want to waste one minute of their time together thinking about what could never be. There'd be plenty of time for that later.

Lifting his head, Adam braced himself on an elbow and brushed Tommy's sweaty, midnight black fringe off his forehead. "It was good, huh?"

"Fucking amazing," Tommy said, and Adam could see in his eyes that while Tommy was being honest, he was also trying to hold the impending heartbreak they were about to feel at bay. 

"Fucking amazing," Adam repeated, smiling as much as he could make himself just then.

Tommy stared up at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Slowly, he let it go and said, "This is it, huh? This is all we get."

Adam's eyes burned as he forced another smile. "It has to be."

Tommy stared up at him for several more heartbeats, then pulled him down, into a kiss filled with desperation and need. 

"I-I can't," he panted against Adam's lips after. "I can't leave you now. I didn't know it would feel this way."

Adam squeezed his eyes shut and touched his forehead to Tommy's. "You have to. I can't be responsible for your death too. At least—" He broke off and swallowed, then continued on, "At least this way I know you're out there somewhere. Alive. Not in a grave because of me."

Tommy shook his head, his forehead rubbing against Adam's. "It wouldn't be your fault. The others weren't, either. It's that fucking witch's fault."

"Doesn't change the fact that you'd be dead."

Sighing, Tommy released his hold on the back of Adam's head and let his hands fall to the mattress. "I know."

Allowing himself one more moment to hold Tommy, Adam pulled out and rolled to his side, taking Tommy with him. For long minutes they lay there, arms wrapped around each other. It felt so right to be there with him, skin to skin, holding each other and just … being. Tears burned behind his eyelids and he took a steadying breath, trying to hold them off.

"Not yet," Tommy mumbled, almost as if he knew Adam had been about to tell him he had to go. Mouth pressed against Adam's shoulder, he added, "Just a few more minutes."

Adam exhaled and forced himself to relax, needing the few minutes as much as Tommy did. "Only a few, though," Adam said quietly.

Lying there with Tommy wrapped around him, it was so easy for Adam to imagine a life together, a future where they fell asleep in each other's arms every night and woke up with each other every morning. Silence filled the room and before long, Adam felt Tommy's body relax into his just that fraction more that meant he was falling asleep. 

Skirting the edges of it himself, he reached up and trailed his fingers over Tommy's cheek. "Baby, you've gotta go."

"Gonna get up in a second," Tommy said sleepily.

Adam yawned and felt himself sinking fast. Fingers slipping from Tommy's face, he gave Tommy's shoulder a half-hearted shake. "Need to get up."

"I am," Tommy said, although he didn't move a muscle.

It was the last thing Adam heard him say as he lost the battle and fell asleep.

*

  


*

Adam woke with a start and glanced out the window. The moon was still high in the sky. For a moment, he lay there disoriented, assuming the memories he had of being with Tommy had been a dream. That is, until he realized there was someone in the bed with him. Closing his eyes, he prayed to every God he didn't believe in that it somehow wasn't Tommy, even though he knew without looking it was.

Heart pounding in his ears, Adam forced himself to open his eyes and look over. Tears rolled unchecked down his face as he took in Tommy's still form, head lying on the pillow facing Adam. 

Choking on a sob, Adam reached out with a shaky hand and ran his fingertips over Tommy's pale cheek. He couldn't understand how he'd let himself fall asleep, knowing what would happen. He'd killed Tommy, as sure as if he'd wrapped his hands around his neck himself. Devastated, he pulled Tommy toward him, into his arms, needing to hold him one last time before he let go forever. 

The warmth radiating from Tommy's body didn't register, but the heart beating against Adam's chest when he pulled him close sure did, along with the mumbled, "Love you," that escaped Tommy's lips.

Adam sucked in a sharp breath, shock nearly making him jump a mile in the air. Unable to believe what his senses were telling him, Adam pushed Tommy away slightly and watched his chest rise and fall with each slow, steady breath he took. Gaze lifting to Tommy's face, Adam stared hard, realizing that yes, Tommy was pale, but it wasn't the paleness of death. It was just Tommy's usual paleness. There was still a hint of color under the surface of his skin. A hint of life. 

Tommy was alive. The curse hadn't killed him. 

For one brief, careless second, Adam allowed a kernel of joy and hope to rise up within him, but only for a second. As fast as the image of them living happily ever after, free of the curse, entered his head, it was chased out by other images. Images of going to bed every night, always worrying if this time he'd wake up and find Tommy dead. 

And even if that didn't happen, there was still the matter of Adam's demon. He imagined how their life would be together, him having to hide from society, to live on the fringes of it, never able to really join in for fear he'd lose the tenuous control he had on his demon and someone would find out his secret. Meanwhile, Tommy would be out in the world, living his life, trying to make his dream come true. Tommy deserved someone he didn't have to hide away, someone he could bring around his friends and his family. Someone he could share his life with, not someone he had to keep separate from it. 

Partly because of that, but mostly because he just didn't know enough about the curse to risk Tommy's life on the chance that the curse just hadn't had time to work yet, Adam extracted himself from Tommy's arms and legs and slipped out of bed.

Dressing quickly, he stopped by the bed one last time and bent to kiss Tommy on the forehead. Eyes squeezed shut, he breathed in Tommy's scent, then straightened, opening his eyes again. His heart broke as he locked the image of Tommy's peaceful expression in his mind for later, and then he turned and walked away. He wouldn't—couldn't—spend one more night in that house. Not with memories of Tommy _everywhere_ , including in his bed.

*

*

Tommy woke to sunlight streaming in the window, right onto his face. He cursed himself for leaving his blinds open _again_ and rolled away from it. With a yawn, he settled back in, mind drifting to the dream he'd been having. In it, he and Adam had had sex and it had been fucking amazing. Like nothing he'd experienced before, and he'd had some pretty intense experiences when it came to sex.

Eventually he rolled back over, onto his back, and stretched. Muscles he didn't usually notice, protested. Other things ached, too, things like his lips, which felt bruised when he reached up and touched them, and his ass, which felt … used. 

Eyes flying open, Tommy stared at the unfamiliar ceiling in shock, then bolted straight up in bed. _Adam's bed_. He looked around for Adam, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a folded note sitting on the pillow next to him, and with his stomach in his throat, he reached for it, pretty sure he knew what it was going to say before he read it.

> _Tommy,_
> 
> _I woke to find you by my side, still breathing, and for a moment, I allowed myself to believe we could be together, but we can't. Even if it isn't just a matter of time until the curse takes you away from me, I could never be a part of your life the way you deserve, so I'm leaving. It's better this way, for both of us, so please don't try to find me. Please live your life and your dream for both of us and when the time comes, let yourself love someone who's worthy._
> 
> _Love always and forever,  
>  Adam_

Tommy sniffed, angrily wiping at the tears streaming down his face. It wasn't fair. To him or Adam. He'd never hated anyone in his life, but in that moment, he _hated_ the asshole who had put the curse on Adam so much that it literally took his breath away.

Eventually, though, the hatred and the anger subsided, leaving him lonely and miserable. With a choked sob, Tommy pulled his legs up to his body, wrapped his arms around them, and dropped his forehead to his knees as he cried for everything he'd never have with Adam.


	5. Chapter 5

_San Diego, Late May, 2008…_

 

"You're a hard man to find," a short attractive brunet who looked to be in his early to mid-twenties said, pushing his way past Adam and into the abandoned warehouse Adam had been living in since leaving Los Angeles.

"Excuse me?" Adam said, bemused.

"You," the man said, pointing a finger at Adam, "were hard to find."

Adam blinked. "I didn't know anyone was looking."

The man snorted, turning away from Adam to look around the warehouse. On its face, the place looked worse for wear, but just a few feet away, behind a stack of boxes, Adam had cleared out a small space to live in and paint.

"Is there someplace I can sit? My feet are killing me. I just bought these shoes and they're not broken in yet."

Unsure why he wasn't kicking the presumptuous man the hell out of his place, Adam instead pointed toward the stack of boxes and said, "Around the corner."

A smile curled the man's lips and he started in that direction. 

Adam followed, blurting out an irritated, "Who the hell are you?"

Once seated, the man said, "Forgive my manners. I'm Brad Bell. And you're Adam, right? Adam Mitchell?"

Adam scowled. "Get out."

"Oh no, honey. Not a fucking chance. Not after everything I've been through to find you."

Adam growled, taking a threatening step forward.

Brad rolled his eyes. "Please. I'd lay you out so fast your head would spin for a week before you even had the chance to get near me."

Adam bared his teeth at that. "You're a witch."

Brad shrugged. "I prefer the term warlock, but yes. Essentially."

Hands fisted at his sides, Adam said, "If you won't leave, I will," and turned away, intent on doing just that.

"Suit yourself," Brad said, unconcerned. "It's your life you're giving up if you do."

Adam tensed and turned back. "Is that a threat?"

Brad's eyes widened in surprise. "What? No. I didn't mean it that way."

Eyes narrowed, Adam asked, "What way did you mean it, then?"

Brad looked at him for a long moment before answering. "I meant that I know about the curse you've been living under and I'm here to help."

All the air went out of Adam at once and he sank down onto a nearby crate. When he was able to breathe again, he asked in a small voice, "How?"

The bravado and nonchalance Brad had been portraying since entering the warehouse slipped away and sympathy filled his eyes. "By giving you your life back."

"I don't understand," Adam said, mind reeling.

Brad sighed, shifting in the chair he was sitting in. "I should probably start with the fact that it was my uncle who put the curse on you."

Adam growled, forgetting himself for a minute at the mention of the bastard who had cursed him.

"He's dead now, if that helps at all," Brad hurried to add. 

"It doesn't."

"It should," Brad said. "It was being on his deathbed that made him finally regret what he'd done to you. He confessed everything to me with his dying breath."

"So?" Adam snapped.

" _So_ ," Brad said, "I'm here to fix it."

"You can break the curse?" Adam asked in disbelief. He'd been to more witches than he could count over the years and the one thing they had all agreed on was that the curse was unbreakable.

"No," Brad said, looking somewhat apologetic. "I can't do that."

Adam jumped to his feet and started pacing. "Then what? Because unless you have the ability to zap me back in time to before this all happened, I don't see what else you can do."

"Nope, can't do that, either," Brad said. "But if you sit down and shut up, I'll tell you what I can do."

Jaw clenched, Adam forced himself to sit.

Taking a deep breath, Brad said, "So I've been working on a solution for the last six months with my LA coven and we came up with a plan about three months ago. It's taken that long to work out all the details, get the things we need around, and find you."

"What kind of solution?" Adam asked warily. He didn't trust witches, and for good reason, in his opinion.

"Well, the problem is that the curse is unbreakable, except by the witch who cast it, and since he'd dead, we needed to find a way to trick it into not existing," Brad said.

"How exactly do you plan to do that?"

"By erasing you from history," Brad said casually.

"Let me get this straight," Adam said slowly. "Your solution to my curse is to wipe me out of existence?"

Brad tilted his head a little in thought and said, "Not exactly. More like … move you from one point in time to another."

Adam shook his head. "I don't understand how that'll fix anything."

"The theory is—"

"The _theory_?" Adam repeated, voice booming through the warehouse. "This is all theory? You don't even know for sure you can do it?"

Brad tensed, irritation flitting across his face. "Well it's not like it's a common enough occurrence that we have others like you lined up around the block waiting for us to test it out on them."

Adam's anger deflated and he said, "Yeah. Sorry. Go on."

Brad relaxed back in his chair. "Alright, so the theory is that if you didn't exist at the time you were cursed, it would nullify the curse since you wouldn't have been in that bar that night and had that one night stand."

Trying to wrap his mind around what Brad was saying, Adam asked, "And if your theory is wrong?"

"Best case scenario if we're wrong is that it changes nothing and you're still as you are," Brad said.

"That's the _best_ case?" Adam asked, afraid to hear the worst.

"Worst case, you're wiped out of existence entirely."

"So for all intents and purposes, I'd be dead," Adam said.

"I know it sounds really bad," Brad said quickly, "but we studied this from every angle we could think of and we've all agreed that's the least likely scenario. The chances of it happening are—"

"I'll do it," Adam interrupted.

Brad's mouth snapped shut, then opened again. "You don't even want to know the chances?"

Adam shook his head. "Honestly, it doesn't matter. I'd take death at this point over an eternity of living like this. Look at me. The demon's used my misery to twist me into a monster in only a few decades. What's it going to do to me given more time? And that's only what it's done to me physically. Mentally … I can feel it trying to take control. I've fought it for so long. I don't want to fight it any longer."

Brad stared at Adam silently for a long moment, then stood and walked over to where Adam was sitting. Crouching down in front of him, Brad put his hands on Adam's forearms, which were braced on his thighs, and looked up at him.

With a sincerity in his eyes that rattled Adam a little, Brad said, "I'm truly sorry for what my uncle did to you. I wish I could reverse it and give you the life you were meant to live back. I can't do that, but I could give you a life now. One you get to help create, if you want."

Adam swallowed. "You mean I can decide who and where and what I am?"

Brad nodded. "Even your love life if there's someone you're in love with, provided they're in love with you also."

Immediately thinking of Tommy, Adam started to say yes, but then thought again and shook his head. "No." 

"No, as in there's no one? Or no as in—"

"No as in I don't want him involved. I want him as far away from the magic as possible."

"You're willing to give him up to keep him safe?" Brad asked.

Adam nodded. 

"The risk would be small…" Brad said, trailing off.

Adam shook his head. "I don't care. Any risk is too much."

Brad's lips pressed together in a slight frown. "Okay." After a short pause, he added, "I'll bring the rest of the coven around tomorrow and we can iron out the details."

"How soon can this all be done?" Adam asked. 

"Three days from now, during the full moon. Magic is always the strongest during a full moon, and we're going to need every bit of magic we can syphon." He hesitated, then added, "We'll need to draw energy from your demon, too. It gets its power from black magic, but that's okay. We have a warlock, Sutan, who has the ability to extract the raw, usable energy from it."

Adam's demon had been bucking against him since Brad showed up and told him why he was there. Now, in light of that news, it roared inside the cage Adam had stuffed it in, demanding blood, demanding Brad's life for even suggesting something like that.

Taking a deep breath, Adam said, "You should go now. And when you come back, bring something strong enough to lock down a demon. It wants to kill you. I'm barely holding it back."

Brad nodded. "We thought as much. We've already prepared for that."

"Good," Adam said. 

"One more thing," Brad said on his way to the door. "We need to tether you to someone in this reality. To give the spell roots, so-to-speak. If that can't be your man, it would be best if we could tether you to relatives; that way we won't have to use extra energy to create a feeling of familiarity and a sense of belonging. We'd be able to shape what's already there to suit our needs."

Immediately Adam thought of his little sister. "Leila," he said. "Bind me to my sister, Leila."

Brad nodded. "I researched you, hoping it would give me some clues as to where to look for you and I read up on her a little. She's fifty now, so it would be a stretch to make her your older sister, but we could make her your mom. She has a son, Neil, who would become your younger brother, and an ex-husband, Eber, who it would make sense to make your father. Your last name would be Lambert."

Adam felt the air rush out of his lungs at the idea of having a family again, of having his sister back in his life, even if he wouldn't ever be able to think of her as that again, or call her that. He'd tracked her down since arriving in San Diego, and seeing her again—even from afar—had driven home how much he missed her, how much he missed his family.

"Yes. That... Yes. I'd like that very much," Adam said, trying to keep the warble out of his voice.

Brad smiled. "Good. Do you think you can get something of hers? A personal belonging? We can use that to access not only her, but Neil and Eber through her, too."

Adam nodded. "Consider it done."

*

*

The next evening, Brad showed up right on time and with company. In all, there were eight more witches in his warehouse in addition to Brad. Adam nodded at each of them, fighting down the demon trying to scratch free as Brad introduced him to Scarlett, Lee, Danielle, Sutan, Carmit, Roxy, Brooke and Terrance.

Focusing on Brad, Adam said, "Now would be a good time to haul out the chains if you brought them."

Brad blinked at him. "Chains? Oh, you mean for the demon." He smiled. "We won't need chains, just a camera." Turning to the group, he said, "Lee?"

Lee stepped forward, polaroid camera in hand, and lifted it to his face, saying, "Smile."

Adam was too confused to do much besides say, "Huh?" before the flash went off. 

The camera spit out a picture and Lee held it by one corner, looking pleased with himself.

"What—" Adam started, only to be interrupted by Brad.

"Lee can channel magic through his art, which is photography. He captured your essence, and that of the demon's. Once the photo's developed—"

"Which it is," Lee interjected, holding it up for them to see. "Not my best work, but I usually work with digital. It would have been a pain in the ass to bring a printer along, though, so I'll have to make do."

Adam watched as he trailed his fingers over the photo and spoke some words in another language. Once he was through, he set the picture down on a nearby crate and said, "There. All taken care of. You should feel the demon receding."

Amazingly, Adam realized that he could barely feel the demon at all. "Oh my God," he said in wonder. "That's… Can you leave it like that?"

Lee shook his head apologetically. "I can only hold it off for a couple of hours at a time. The demon's strong. I'm impressed you've been able to rein it in as much as you have, honestly."

Mostly free of the demon, Adam and Brad's coven spent the next two hours working out the details of the spells involved and the life they would be giving Adam. 

"Okay," Brad said some time later. "Family ties and childhood history are out of the way. Now, we need to give you a love life."

Adam tensed. "I thought we discussed that already."

Brad nodded. "Yes. You want to keep your guy away from this. The problem is, that leaves a hole in your soul. I'm sure you feel it, right?"

Thinking he understood what Brad meant, Adam nodded. "And?"

"And I'm sure it's hard enough to push it aside and ignore it right now when you know what's causing it," Brad said. "Can you imagine how much more it would wear on you if you didn't even know why you were feeling empty? Because we can't get rid of it, not completely. What we can do is give those feelings an explainable outlet so that you have a reason to be feeling them and won't question it or go looking for ways to fill it."

"What other outlet?"

"Me," Brad said. "You and I will be ex's. That way, it tethers you to my life and the coven's in case something comes up and you need our help, and it gives you a reason to have those feelings."

Adam nodded his head after a minute. "Alright."

"I think that's about it," Brad said, looking around at everyone. Gaze landing on Adam, Brad said, "We'll have to cast the spell in LA. We all use our magic there the most, so it's the strongest there. Can you be there the night after tomorrow?"

"With bells on," Adam said, feeling almost giddy at how close he was to being rid of the curse and the demon.

Sutan laughed and stood. "A man after my own heart. See you in two days' time, baby."

Adam smiled at him. He already felt a connection to these people, in spite of them being witches. He had no doubt that if they'd all met under other circumstances, he would have been close to all of them, no spell needed.

*

  


*

Two days later, he drove up to Scarlett and Lee's place and took a deep breath. This was it. Tonight was the night he got his life back. Correction—the night he got a new life.

He'd had to fight the demon with everything he had in order to get there. As a result, he was exhausted and it was only barely past noon. Stumbling out of the car, he didn't even have the energy to put on his human face as he headed for the house. He kept his head down and hoped none of the neighbors looked too closely at him. 

Before he even got to the door, Scarlett was there, opening it and ushering him in. He collapsed against the wall next to the door and gasped, "Demon. I'm losing control…"

"Lee!" Scarlett called urgently. "Camera!"

Lee showed up in the entryway a moment later, polaroid in hand and a tense expression on his face. He lifted it quickly and took the picture. 

Adam's demon roared and the windows shook.

"Get back!" Lee yelled to Scarlett.

She darted out of the way seconds before Adam swung around, claws out and took a chunk out of the wall. He shouted for the demon to stop, but it spun back around and started for Lee. Just then, Brad raced in and chanted something that sent Adam flying back against the door, knocking the air out of him as if he'd been punched in the gut.

Lee cast the spell over the picture before Adam could get his breath back, and the demon receded with one last screech of anger. Adam panted for air, sliding down the wall until his ass hit the tile floor.

"S-sorry," he managed to mumble, just before passing out.

*

*

When Adam came around again, it was almost evening and he was on a couch. He groaned and sat up, head pounding.

"Welcome back, sleepyhead."

"Brad?" Adam asked, blinking as he turned to look in the direction of the voice. "Is everyone alright?"

"Yes," Brad said. "The house, not so much."

"Oh my God," Adam said. "I'm so sorry. I tried to control it, but…"

"No, we're sorry. We should have sent Lee down to get you. He could have cast the spell then and you wouldn't have had to drain yourself fighting it on the trip up."

Adam shook his head. "You weren't kidding the other day at the warehouse when you said I wouldn't be able to get near you."

Brad smiled lightly. "People underestimate me all the time."

"Never again, I promise," Adam said.

Brad chuckled. "Not for the next few hours, anyway. After that, it's a clean slate."

"About that," Adam said, shifting around so that he was sitting up. "Why can't I keep my memories? We wouldn't have to do this ex thing then, and I could go to Tommy right away."

Brad shook his head. "We have to weave your essence into the fabric of this timeline and give the spell time for real memories to take root and strengthen the bonds we're creating through magic. The only way to make that happen is if everyone, all of us included, believe the backstory is real."

Adam sighed, head dropping into his hands. 

He heard Brad get up, then felt the couch depress slightly next to him. A hand rubbed soothingly over his back and Brad asked, "What is it?"

"I'm having second thoughts about cutting Tommy out. What if we're each other's one shot at happiness? What if I'm screwing that up for both of us?"

"You need to trust that if it's meant to be, you'll find each other again," Brad said. "And besides, it's too late anyway. The spells are already set to go. It would take too much time to rewrite the love one. We'd miss the moon cycle we need."

Lifting his head, Adam looked over at Brad. "You sound so sure it'll happen. Why?"

"Because of what you told me about your night together," Brad said, referring back to their conversation on the phone the night before when Brad had called for some extra details for the spells. "He didn't die afterwards. You guys had it wrong, Adam. The determining factor wasn't whether or not you believed you were happy. The only thing that could break that part of the curse was true love. The other men… You might have loved them, but they weren't your soul mates. Tommy is."

"So I could theoretically walk away from all this, go back to Tommy, and be with him the rest of his life," Adam said, even though it wasn't really an option in his mind. 

The part about Tommy dying because of the curse might not be a factor any longer, but the rest still was. He'd still have to live on the fringes, Tommy would still have to hide him away, hide them. Tommy would still grow old and die while Adam continued on forever, miserable and alone. He didn't want to do that to Tommy or himself.

"Theoretically, yes," Brad said, then added, "but after all the work the coven and I have put into this, if you do, I'll be forced to kick your ass, just so you know."

Adam let out a short bark of laughter. "After that stunt in the entry, I don't doubt it."

"There's something else," Brad said. "When we were searching for you, we kept coming up empty. We tried scrying and several other spells and just … nothing. We think it's because of the demon's hold on you. It altered your essence enough that the spirit world didn't recognize you as the human you once were."

Adam frowned. "Then how—"

"Sex magic," Brad said. "The kind only true love can create. The night you were with Tommy, you joined together on more than a physical level. You joined together on a spiritual level, too, and the magic that created was pure enough to suppress the demon for a time."

Adam nodded. "I had to force it back at first, but then … it just sort of receded. I was too caught up in the moment to wonder why."

Brad shifted on the couch and continued, "We were here, performing another spell to try to locate you, when suddenly the map we were chanting over lit up all of Burbank like a Christmas tree. The energy levels were off the charts. Because of that, it took us until the middle of the next day to pinpoint your exact location, and by the time we got there…"

"I was gone," Adam finished for Brad. "I woke up in the middle of the night and panicked when I realized how careless I'd been with Tommy's life. I left him a note and left town right then. I didn't want to take any more chances."

"We waited around for days, but you never came back," Brad said. "Eventually, Roxy got the idea to sample the residual magic left in your house and use it to track you down. It was a slow process. We had to essentially retrace your footsteps. We lost your trail several times, but that's what ultimately led me to you at the warehouse."

Taking that in, Adam realized that it was because of Tommy's courage, Tommy's determination to find a way for them to be together at least once that Adam was getting a chance to live a human life again. 

Standing, Adam asked, "How much time do I have left before the demon comes back?"

"Almost two hours," Brad said, standing also. "Lee took another picture. That was about ten minutes ago, just before you woke up."

"I'm going to take a drive while my head is clear." Adam headed for the door. Over his shoulder, he said, "I'll be back in time." 

"You'd better," Brad said.

*

  


*

Tommy headed home from the corner store with a bag of groceries tucked under one arm and a six pack in his other hand. He took his time, knowing there was no one at home waiting for him. Dave was out with friends, leaving the apartment empty. He'd asked Tommy along, but as usual, Tommy turned him down, having had even less of an urge than normal to socialize since Adam left.

Truth be told, he'd spent nearly every night at home since, trying to lose himself in movies and books and beer. It hadn't been working so well so far, but he had high hopes that one of these days, his luck would turn around and he'd go for more than five minutes without thinking about Adam. 

Stepping onto the driveway that led up to his house, Tommy got halfway there before he felt it. Felt _him_. Heart speeding up in his chest, sure he was imagining it, Tommy turned in a circle, eyes scanning the shadows, until he reached the side of the garage. There, standing in the glow cast by the streetlight, was Adam.

"Adam," Tommy said, fighting the urge to drop the bag and beer and run into his arms like some fucking chick flick.

"Tommy," Adam said, taking a step toward him.

Swallowing hard, Tommy took an answering step back, afraid to believe, afraid of what it meant. "What are you doing here?"

Hurt flitted across Adam's face and he stopped advancing. "I needed to ask you a question."

Tommy's eyebrows climbed up his forehead. "Two months of radio silence and suddenly you need to ask me a question?"

"Yes," Adam said matter-of-factly.

Tommy took a deep breath and said, "Sorry. That wasn't fair. We both agreed it had to be this way."

"I'm sorry, too," Adam said anyway.

Studying Adam for a long moment, Tommy started toward him, not stopping until he was only a few feet away. "There's something different about you. What is it?"

Adam blinked in surprise, but then he smiled a little. "I should've known you'd notice. I met up with some witches."

Tommy's eyes widened in surprise and white-hot anger flashed through him. "What did those bastards do to you now?"

Shaking his head, Adam said, "They didn't hurt me. They're trying to help me. One of them, Lee, is able to shut down the demon for a couple of hours at a time. He did it for me just before I came here."

"Holy shit," Tommy said. "How does it feel? Weird? Good?"

Adam smiled. "Both."

"So what's the question?" Tommy asked, shifting his bag around so it sat more comfortably against him. 

The smile dropped from Adam's lips and he said, "This isn't easy for me to ask, and it's not going to be easy to answer, but it's important. I need to know."

"So ask," Tommy said, bracing himself for whatever it was.

Staring intently into Tommy's eyes, Adam asked, "If we had a chance to be together somehow, someday … would you want that?"

Tommy bit back the flippant, _Of fucking course I would_ , on the tip of his tongue and instead gave the question the seriousness it deserved. "Not only would I want that, I'd do almost anything barring murder to make it happen."

Adam exhaled and Tommy kind of wanted to hit him for doubting it for a second, but then, Adam hadn't been there for the morning after, Tommy had to remind himself. For all Adam knew, Tommy had flipped out about doing a guy and gone on a run of one night stands to fix it, or he'd gotten together with an ex, or someone new, or any of a hundred other possibilities.

"Thank you," Adam said sincerely. "That's all I needed to know."

He started to turn away, and Tommy did drop his bag and his six pack then, grabbing Adam's arm. "Oh no you don't. Not without this." 

Leaning up, Tommy pressed his lips to Adam's. Adam groaned and wrapped his arms around Tommy, pulling him in against him. Tommy whimpered into the kiss, tongue licking into Adam's mouth as his hands came up to fist in Adam's hair. He'd didn't understand how he could miss someone so fucking much that he'd barely had any time at all with in the first place, but he did. He _so_ did. He missed Adam's arms around him, missed Adam's smell, the way their bodies fit together. Eventually, the kiss ended and they pressed their foreheads together. 

"I don't want you to go again," Tommy said. 

"I don't want to either," Adam said, "but I have to."

Tommy sighed, and with one last kiss, slipped free of Adam's arms. "You're not going to tell me why you needed to know that, are you?"

Adam shook his head. 

Taking a deep breath, Tommy said ruefully, "I guess this is the goodbye we didn't get earlier."

Adam pressed one last kiss to Tommy's forehead and whispered, "Thank you, Tommy Joe. Thank you for having the courage I didn't. You made everything possible."

Before Tommy could ask Adam what he was talking about, Adam disappeared into the shadows, leaving Tommy standing alone on his front lawn, spilled groceries at his feet and questions hanging in the air.

*

*

Just before the two hours were up, Adam returned to Scarlett and Lee's house. Lee snapped a picture the second Adam walked in, and while Adam was blinking away the spots caused by the flash, Lee shook the picture to hurry it up and said, "I'm not taking any chances this time."

"I don't blame you," Adam said. "I'm sorry about earlier. And I'll pay for the damages."

Lee smiled at him. "No you won't, because you're not going to be rich anymore and you won't have any idea you damaged the wall. We'll probably all just chalk it up to a hard night of partying."

Adam laughed, liking the sound of that very much. 

Lee cast the spell again, then led Adam through the house and into the backyard where they had a circle of candles set up around a low stone table. The table itself had a variety of herbs and other things Adam didn't recognize on it, along with a clay bowl in the middle. 

"When the moon's at its height," Brooke said, coming to stand next to Adam by the doorway, "it will shine on the center of the table, and that's when we'll perform the spell."

Adam nodded. "What do I need to do?"

Putting her hand on his arm, Brooke said, "For now, just try to relax while we make final preparations."

Adam stayed where he was while all around him, the coven set up, performing various enchantments and spells that were designed to set up what Brad called _The Big One_ with a smirk on his face that made Adam laugh. He had a feeling it wasn't going to be a hardship to be Brad's 'ex'. 

With ten minutes to go, Sutan walked over to Adam and asked, "Any second thoughts?"

Adam snorted. "And third, and fourth."

Sutan smiled. "Good. If you'd said no, I was prepared to walk out of here. No way would I even consider doing a spell like this on someone who hadn't thought it out carefully."

Adam glanced over at him. "You—all of you—are different from any of the other witches I've met over the years. Why?"

Sutan shrugged. "I'm betting you've mostly met the old guard, who ironically aren't all old. They just follow the old ways, the old beliefs. We all questioned things and ended up shunned by our old covens for it. We gravitated to LA, found each other and formed our own coven, and the rest is history."

Adam frowned. "How am I going to fit in to this group? I'm not a witch or a warlock."

Sutan chuckled. "We do all have friends outside the coven. Besides, the story to how you fit has already been written by Brad. First, you fit because you were his boyfriend, then over time, it was because we all have interests other than magic, and you fit in with those."

Offering Sutan a smile, Adam said, "Thanks."

Sutan reached out and took Adam's hand in his, squeezing it briefly before stepping away from the corner they were standing in. Still holding Adam's hand, he led him over to the circle, where Adam was told to sit on the low stone table with the clay bowl in his lap. 

Nerves making his stomach coil tight, Adam did as he was told, feeling the demon rail inside him, even within the tight confines of the cage Lee had put him in. One by one, each coven member added one of the herbs and other things spread out on the table around Adam into the bowl. After the final ingredient was added, they all backed away and formed a circle around him.

Once they were all sitting, hands joined, Brad—who was directly in front of him—said, "We're going to perform a stasis spell on you so that Lee can release the demon without you attacking us. The demon has to be free in order for Sutan to syphon off its energy." Adam nodded and Brad added apologetically, "This is going to hurt. A lot."

Adam swallowed, bracing himself. "I fully expected it to."

With that they began and almost immediately Adam felt like his body was encased in clay, thick heavy clay that kept him from moving so much as a pinkie. Not long after, he felt the demon rise up within him. His nails lengthened to claws, his teeth sharpened to points and his bones reshaped in his face, leaving him with the familiar too-tight feeling of stretched skin that he'd learned to live with over the years. A roar of pure rage boiled up from the demon's center and burst from his mouth into the night air. 

Adam didn't even have time to wonder what the neighbors around them might be thinking because the pain started immediately. Demon growling and tears in his eyes, Adam's gaze locked on Sutan, who was sitting cross-legged next to Brad, eyes closed as he chanted. 

Adam could feel energy draining from the demon and flowing toward Sutan and the pain was excruciating. Several times he was sure he was going to pass out, but either because of the stasis spell or because of the demon itself, he didn't. 

And then it was over. The pain was gone. Adam felt the demon's exhaustion and weakness inside him. It was giving up. 

The entire coven rose to their feet, holding hands as they chanted. Sutan started to glow with pure white light. The glow spread down his arms and into Brad on one side and Lee on the other. From there it spread to the others until the entire ring was glowing. Adam sat there, wide-eyed and breathless, entranced as the white light seemed to grow and grow, crawling closer and closer until he was encompassed in it, too. It felt like pure power. Distantly, he was aware that the contents in the clay bowl in his lap had spontaneously lit on fire, burning to ash in what seemed to be a matter of seconds, much faster than it should have been able to. And then he was floating, lifted up by the white mist, the stasis surrounding him falling away in the process. 

Suddenly, what sounded like Brad's voice, but was somehow _more_ , as if maybe it was all of their voices channeled through him, cut through the night air. "Let it be done!"

Adam's entire body seized up and he screamed, not from pain this time, but from the surge of energy that flowed through him. 

As he fell back to earth, back to the stone table, memories flooded through him, memories the coven had planted there. Memories of his mother, Leila, his father, Eber, and his brother, Neil. Family get-togethers and road trips and plays and later, him coming out to his mom, his dad talking to him about his move to LA, his relationship with Brad and how it had gone wrong but they'd managed to stay friends. Parties and jobs, hardships and joys. 

It was all there, mixing with real memories for a moment, until slowly, the real memories receded, not disappearing, just hiding, leaving Adam staring up at the night sky, blissed out and smiling as he wondered what the _hell_ had been in the pot Sutan had brought to the party this time. It must have been some really good shit. He was tingling all over, like an electric current had just shot through him. Just before he passed out, a giggle of pure joy bubbled up from deep inside him and drifted off into the night air.


	6. Chapter 6

_Los Angeles, May 20th, 2009…_

 

"Tommy, get your ass out here!" Chantala called. "Commercial's over!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Fuck," Tommy said, balancing a beer and a soda in one hand and a plate of nachos in the other. When Chantala took the nachos from him, he plopped down on the couch next to her and handed her the soda. "Still can't believe I'm watching this shit."

Chantala shoved him sideways on the couch, almost making him spill his beer. "Shut up. You're as into it as I am."

"Only because they have a decent singer on it for a change," Tommy said. "Don't expect me to watch it next year with you."

"He is pretty hot, isn't he?" Chantala said, staring dreamily at the TV, or more accurately, Adam Lambert on the TV.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "I said he was good, not hot."

"Yeah, but he's hot, too," Chantala said with a knowing smile. "Don't tell me you don't think so. He's totally your type."

Tommy snorted. "What is it with you and trying to get me in bed with a guy? Just because I find certain dudes attractive, doesn't mean I want to fuck any of them."

"Yeah, but—"

"Shh," Tommy interrupted when someone handed Ryan Seacrest an envelope. "They're announcing it. It'd fucking better be Adam."

They listened as the official handing Ryan the envelope droned on. "…a new world record was created with almost one hundred million votes cast."

"Holy shit," Tommy said.

At the same time, Chantala said, "That's insane."

"… dim the lights; here we go," Ryan said over the TV. "After the nationwide vote of nearly one hundred million, the winner of American Idol 2009 is…"

"Come on Adam," Tommy said, sitting forward on the couch, beer all but forgotten in his hand.

"Kris Allen!" Ryan announced.

"What the fuck!" Tommy shouted, jumping to his feet in outrage, beer spilling over his hand.

"No way," Chantala said, sitting stunned on the couch. "No _way_."

"See?" Tommy cried in outrage, pointing at the screen as Ryan and Kris talked. "This is why I don't watch these fucking shows. That's so fucked up. Even _Kris_ thinks Adam should've won. I mean, Kris is good, yeah, but come on. Adam's, like, in a whole other _league_."

Anger giving way to disbelief, Tommy sat back down on the couch as Ryan called Adam back over. "Wow, he's like, totally amazing, you know that? He just got robbed of the win and he doesn't seem mad about it at all. He seems genuinely happy for Kris."

Chantala gave Tommy a hard shove and said, "Yeah, tell me again how you're not into him."

Trying not to grin, Tommy snorted instead. "Whatever. Not like I'll ever even meet the guy."

"But if you did—"

"If I did," Tommy interrupted, "playing guitar while he sang would be at the top of my list of things I'd want to do with him, not sex, so get over it. You'll have to get your guy-on-guy fix somewhere else."

Chantala sighed dramatically. "Oh Tommy Joe, you're no fun at all."

Tommy just grinned and lifted the beer to his lips as he said, "Yeah, but you love me anyway."

"I totally do," Chantala said remorsefully, which earned her a playful shove from Tommy. She giggled, then threw her arm around him and said, "Seriously, though. Wouldn't it be amazing if that happened someday? You, kicking ass on guitar and him kicking ass on vocals? You guys would be unstoppable."

Tommy rolled his eyes, even though secretly, he was picturing it in his head. Out loud, though, he said, "Come on. That'll never happen."

Standing up, Chantala brushed a kiss over Tommy's cheek. "Never say never." Straightening, she said, "Now, I'm gonna hit the little girl's room, and then afterwards, you're taking me out for pizza so we can mourn the injustice of reality TV."

"I'd rather dig my eyeballs out with a pitchfork and eat them for breakfast," Tommy said sincerely. Chantala just laughed as she headed out of the room, prompting Tommy to call after her, "I'm serious!"

"Too bad! You owe me for that thing last week and I'm cashing in!" Chantala called from around the corner, just before the bathroom door closed.

Tommy groaned, slouching down in his seat. The next couple of hours were going to be pure hell.

*

*

_Los Angeles, Band Auditions, October 2009…_

 

 _This is all your fault,_ Tommy texted Chantala from the waiting room of the studio holding auditions for Adam Lambert's band.

 _Shut up. I told you to never say never,_ Chantala texted back.

Tommy's head shot up and he held his breath as he heard someone coming down the hall. He was the last one there for auditions and his nerves had been fraying more and more with each passing minute. When the label person walked by the room instead of coming in, Tommy exhaled and closed his eyes for a second, feeling lightheaded.

Opening his eyes again, he thumbed in another text. _I'm gonna pass the fuck out before I even get in there_.

 _No you won't. You're gonna go in there and kill it because you're CRAZY GOOD. Now quit being a pussy and man up_! 

Tommy snorted out a laugh and texted back. _Gee, thanks. Call my manhood into question. That helps. :p_

His text pinged seconds later. _Anytime, baby. ;)_

Before Tommy could reply, the label person who had walked past the room came back and said, "Thomas Ratliff?"

Butterflies morphing into a flock of pissed off birds in his stomach, Tommy said, "That's me."

The man nodded. "They're ready for you. Follow me."

Thumbing in a quick, _Here goes nothing,_ before putting his phone on silent, Tommy stood, grabbed his guitar case, and followed the label guy out into the hall.

*

  


*

Thomas Ratliff, Adam read, scanning the info sheet as he waited for the last of the guitarists coming through to get there. He kind of felt bad for the guy, even though he hadn't even met him yet. The whole audition process was just a formality the label was making Adam go through before he settled on Monte for sure.

There was no chance Adam wasn't picking Monte, though. It had been their dream to travel around the world playing together for years now. And Monte was good. Really good. This last guy would have to be off the charts for Adam to even consider him, and even then… Adam believed in sharing his success with his friends whenever he could, and besides, he'd already told Monte he had the job _and_ Monte had twins on the way he needed to support. How much of an asshole would Adam have to be to change his mind now?

Still, when Adam looked up as the door opened and a short blond guy wearing make-up and sporting a jet black fringe of bangs walked in holding a guitar, Adam was hit with a wave of … something he couldn't quite define. It literally took his breath away. Or maybe it was how insanely pretty and tiny the guy—Tommy, he assumed—was. He had a feeling that even without the make-up Tommy would be prettier than most men _and_ a lot of women, too.

Either way, it took several heartbeats for Adam to catch his breath and manage a somewhat normal sounding, "Thomas Ratliff?"

Tommy nodded his head, the movement jerky with obvious nerves. "Yeah. Everyone calls me Tommy or Tommy Joe, though."

Adam had to fight the insane urge to walk over and pull Tommy into a hug to calm him down. Figuring that would be frowned upon since they were virtual strangers, he settled on a warm smile. "Tommy Joe. I like that."

Tommy smiled back and Adam was happy to see him relax a little. 

"We'll wait while you set up," Josh, the label guy sitting next to Adam, said to Tommy.

After Tommy was set up and plugged in, Adam said, "All right, Tommy Joe. Play something for us."

Five minutes later, Tommy was still playing, fingers nimbly moving over the fret board, making the guitar sing in a way that sent chills up Adam's spine. He was good. _So_ good. Good enough that Adam did, in fact, find himself torn between keeping his word to an old friend or picking Tommy for lead guitar.

When Tommy finished, Adam glanced over at Josh. Josh met his gaze with a look that clearly said Adam was insane if he didn't go with Tommy. Still, he just _couldn't_ do that to Monte, no matter how tempted he was.

Before he could say anything, though, Josh said, "That was good. Got anything else? Something with not quite so much of an edge, maybe? Adam's album is going to be more on the pop end of the spectrum."

Tommy shrugged. "Sure, what do you want to hear? If I know it, I'll play it."

Adam blinked. Tommy was willing to play something for them unrehearsed? Too intrigued to turn down the offer, in spite of the fact that he knew he should just be honest with Tommy about the fact that he'd already picked a guitarist, Adam blurted impulsively, "Mad World."

Tilting his head a little, Tommy asked, "Tears for Fears or Gary Jules?"

"Gary Jules, definitely," Adam replied.

Tommy bit his bottom lip, frowning down at his guitar in concentration. 

Into the silence, Josh asked, "Does that even have a guitar part?"

Tommy shook his head, already positioning his hands on the guitar, "No, but I can make it work. Just give me a sec to think about it." 

Adam watched in anticipation as Tommy silently moved his left hand over the fret board, as if hearing the music in his head. Finally, Tommy nodded—whether to himself or them, Adam wasn't sure—and started playing.

Haunting notes filled the air as Tommy played, wrapping around Adam and entrancing him until he found himself singing along. As soon as he started, Tommy's head shot up and their eyes met, a connection solidifying between them that pulled at something deep inside Adam, something he didn't quite understand.

When the final notes drifted off in the air, the room fell silent. Adam and Tommy continued to stare at each other and Adam was sure Tommy was feeling the same thing he was.

Eventually, Josh cleared his throat and said, "Well, that was…"

"Amazing," Adam supplied when Josh trailed off. 

"Yes," Josh agreed. "Really amazing." He glanced through the file they had on Tommy, then looked up at him. "According to your file, you've mostly been in metal or punk bands until now. Eyeliner's the norm in those circles, but not make-up, so why the make-up?"

Tommy smirked and said, "Why? Because rock and roll's a prostitute. It should be tarted up."

Immediately picking up the Velvet Goldmine reference, Adam grinned as he quoted the next line. "Performed. The music is the mask, while I, in my chiffon and taff … well…"

Tommy returned the grin and together they finished the quote. "…varda the message."

"O-kay," Josh said, looking back and forth between them as if they'd suddenly started speaking a foreign language. 

Adam met Tommy's gaze again and they both cracked up. 

When Josh started eyeing Adam's drink as if wondering if someone had slipped something into it, Adam explained, "It's a quote from the movie _Velvet Goldmine_. It's about glam rock in the seventies."

"Totally rad movie. One of my favorites," Tommy piped in, the nerves he'd displayed earlier absent now.

The unexplainable connection he'd felt with Tommy from the start took on shape and form and Adam found himself admitting to him, "I always imagine being Brian Slade when I watch it."

Tommy nodded enthusiastically. "Me too, but with Curt Wild."

A spark of desire, pure and hot, shot through Adam as he pictured him and Tommy making out and fucking their way around the world like Brian and Curt had. Tommy's eyes widened a little and Adam knew immediately that Tommy had picked up on the direction Adam's thoughts had taken. A faint blush spread across Tommy's cheeks that nearly undid Adam. _Fuck_. 

Clearing his throat, Josh said, "Well, even though you're very skilled on guitar—I'll be keeping you in mind for future auditions, in fact, if that's alright with you—I'm sorry to say Adam's already picked his guitarist. These auditions were more of a formality than anything. Sorry if we wasted your time."

Adam's stomach sank as the smile dropped from Tommy's face. "Oh, okay. Thanks for the opportunity, and yeah, definitely keep me in mind." 

He turned away, shoulders dropping dejectedly as he put away his guitar. Adam watched him pack up and head for the door, wishing there was some way to keep him from walking out the door. It felt wrong to let him leave on such an abrupt note, but when Tommy looked back with one last feeble smile and a nod of his head before walking out, Adam found himself at a loss for words. That is, until he recalled how Josh had been harping on him about not picking until he'd heard everyone.

"What the hell was that?" Adam blurted, looking at Josh.

Josh shrugged, gathering up stacks of files scattered around the table they were sitting at. "What was what? You've been telling me all day how set you are on Monte. I just didn't think it was fair to waste any more of Tommy's time."

"Yeah, but you've been on my case all day about how this is a business and how I should be basing my decision purely on talent and not letting friendship factor in," Adam said.

"Exactly," Josh said, setting down the files he'd been gathering to turn toward Adam and give him his full attention. "A business, not a night club. I saw the looks you were giving Tommy, especially once he played Mad World. That's a lawsuit waiting to happen. Tommy's insanely talented, yes, and he'd fit in with your image much better than Monte, but he's not worth the legal headache you'd be involved in if you make a move and he doesn't reciprocate. Monte's a good, seasoned guitarist. He's your best option, next to Tommy."

Adam shook his head. He didn't know how he knew it, but he just knew deep down that Josh was wrong. He and Tommy had clicked on a level he clicked on with few people in his life. Even if it never went further than friendship, he wanted—needed—Tommy in his life. In his band.

Standing suddenly, he headed around the table and for the door. 

"Where are you going?" Josh asked.

Adam looked back over his shoulder as he opened the door. "To prove you wrong."

*

*

Tommy cursed under his breath as he headed for his car, guitar case in hand. He'd been sure he was going to get the job. He and Adam had clicked _so well_. And holy fuck, it had been a trip having Adam sing along with his playing. Like nothing Tommy had ever felt before. It had felt so right, playing together like that. He had thought Adam felt it too. But then the label guy had told him the job was taken and Adam hadn't disagreed, so apparently that was that.

Opening his trunk, Tommy carefully put his guitar case in it, then shut it again and started around the side of his car, trying to ignore the urge to go back in and beg them to reconsider. It was crazy. He'd had other auditions, other rejections, but he'd never felt this anxious afterwards. There was something almost desperate about the feeling deep inside him, and it was growing with each step he took away from the building … away from _Adam_. 

He didn't understand it, which just pissed him off more, until he was ready to break something by the time he reached his car door. Instead of opening it, he slammed his fists down on it, just above the window, and leaned his forehead against them. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on breathing in and out, trying to calm himself down. 

He'd just about accomplished it when he heard his name being called from across the parking lot. Head shooting up, Tommy looked over the top of his car and found Adam running toward him. Frowning, he took a step away from the car and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

"I’m so glad I caught you," Adam said, taking a deep breath. "I couldn't let you leave without asking you—"

"I'm straight," Tommy interrupted flatly, assuming Adam had been about to ask him out and wanting to save both of them the awkwardness.

"What?" Adam asked, looking bemused. 

Tommy glanced up at him. "I know it kind of got … intense in there after we talked about the Brian and Curt thing, but if you were about to ask me out, you should know I'm straight."

"Oh, okay," Adam said. "I wasn't, but that's good to know."

Face heating, Tommy groaned. "Seriously? Fuck. Sorry. I just … thought I got a vibe, and I heard around I’m your type, so I assumed… Never mind. I'm just gonna go home and crawl under a rock now."

Tommy started to open his car door, but Adam's hand shot out, palm pressed flat against the driver's side window, stopping him. "Wait."

"For what? More humiliation? No offense, but I think I've had enough for one day, thanks."

Adam chuckled lightly, but it wasn't malicious. Instead, it sent a curl of warmth through Tommy, taking the edge off his mortification. "No more humiliation, I swear."

Tommy fought back the smile threatening to form and narrowed his eyes. "Now you're just making empty promises. I'm pretty sure I could come up with more ways to embarrass myself."

Adam full out laughed then and said, "See? That right there is why I want you in my band."

Tommy frowned. "But I thought… Josh said the position's filled."

Adam nodded. "It is. Monte Pittman's my guitarist."

"Oh," Tommy said, thoroughly confused, although not about why Adam had chosen Monte. Tommy had never met him, but he'd heard him play. He was pretty well known and respected in the music scene around LA, and with reason.

"Here's the thing," Adam said. "You're so talented and you'd completely fit the image I'm going for. I've got this whole glam rock thing I wanna do with this album, and the tour if things get that far. I need you in my band."

Hope rose up inside Tommy, even though Adam wasn't making a whole lot of sense. "As what? Pop doesn't require two guitars. I can hold a beat on drums, but not much more, and I've got the basics of keys, but that's about it."

"What about bass?" Adam asked. 

Tommy shook his head. "I don't play bass."

"You could learn, though, right?"

Shrugging, Tommy said, "Sure, given enough time, but—"

"Could you be ready by the 19th?" Adam interrupted excitedly. "That's when the call backs are scheduled."

Tommy's eyebrows shot up. "You're joking, right?"

"Nope," Adam said, smiling widely.

Tommy stared up at him for a long minute, trying to figure out how he could pull it off. He didn't even own a bass. He'd have to borrow one from a friend, and even then… In the short amount of time he'd have, it would be nearly impossible to get as good as he'd need to be to beat out anyone good enough to be getting a call back. He'd have to practice every last waking second. He'd definitely have to skip his birthday party to be ready in time. His mom and dad were gonna kill him.

"Sure," he found himself saying, in spite of the absurdity of it.

"Oh my God, this is going to be so amazing," Adam said. "You have no idea."

Tommy was pretty sure he had an idea. He had an idea of how badly he was going to humiliate himself in front of Adam again. Instead of voicing his worries, though, he found himself smiling, Adam's enthusiasm rubbing off on him, making him think that maybe it was possible after all.

After they said goodnight, he climbed in his car and started it up. Before he was even out of the parking lot, he was pulling out his phone to call anyone and everyone he knew with a bass who might be willing to lend it to him.

*

  


*

_For Your Entertainment Video Shoot, November 15, 2009…_

 

Adam sank into the chair in his dressing room with a sigh of relief. He'd been on his feet for hours, dancing and pretending to sing and it was beyond awesome. All of it. But it was also _exhausting_.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes and he had to be back on set, ready to do the band shots. He wondered how long those would take. 

Just as he closed his eyes and leaned his head on the back rest of his chair, the door opened and a familiar voice said, "Hey Adam—" Tommy abruptly broke off, then said, "Oh, shit. Sorry. Didn't mean to disturb you."

Adam lifted his head and offered Tommy a warm smile. "Tommy, hey. Get in here. You're not disturbing me."

Looking skeptical, Tommy slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. In his hands were two steaming cups of what Adam assumed were coffee. 

"One of those for me?" Adam asked hopefully.

"What?" Tommy asked, looking down at his hands, obviously having forgotten he was holding anything. "Oh, yeah. Here."

If he hadn't been so tired and his phone hadn't been all the way across the room because his pants were too tight to fit a nail file in, let alone a phone, Adam so would have taken a picture of the adorably sheepish look on Tommy's face. Hell, everything about Tommy was adorable. Fuck, did Adam have it bad. And for a straight guy. Again. He consoled himself with the fact that at least this one wasn't married.

Accepting the cup of hot, steaming heaven, Adam smiled. "Thanks, baby."

Tommy's face lit up and he leaned back against the dressing table across from Adam's chair. "Anytime, boss man."

Adam fought back a smile and mock-glared. "I told you to quit calling me that."

Tommy laughed. "Yeah, but you get this cute little embarrassed grin on your face when I do. How am I supposed to resist?"

Adam pouted. "I get no respect."

"Aww, poor baby."

Adam sighed, head dropping back again, eyes closing. "So, what do you think of the shoot so far?"

"It's rad, man," Tommy said between sips of his coffee. Adam felt a foot tap him on the shin as Tommy asked, "What about you? Is it what you were envisioning?"

Adam lifted his head and grinned. "Almost exactly."

Tommy quirked an eyebrow. "Almost? What's not quite right?"

Adam shrugged, looking down at his drink. "You know. Not enough same-sex action. They wanted it all guy-girl to make sure VH1 and MTV would play it, I wanted it guy-guy and girl-girl. This is supposed to be the middle, I guess. Seems more straight than bent to me, though."

"Assholes suck," Tommy commiserated.

"I mean, Christina got to have guys kissing in hers, but because I'm _actually_ gay, it's too risky to have guys even dancing together without a girl in the mix. It's stupid."

"So balance it out a little," Tommy said with a shrug, as if it was as simple as that.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Adam asked curiously.

Tommy grinned. "During the band parts, you can, like, grab me and stuff if you want. You know, pull my hair and shit."

"Seriously?" Adam asked.

Tommy shrugged. "Sure, you can do whatever you want, man. Let's Velvet Goldmine this bitch. They can't object to that, right? Lots of bands pull that kinda thing."

Marveling yet again at how open and laid back Tommy was for a straight guy, Adam jumped up out of his seat and scooped Tommy up, hugging him tight as they twirled around. "Let's do it!"

Tommy laughed, one arm wrapped around Adam's neck, the other locked straight out from his side. "Dude, watch the coffee."

With a smacking kiss to Tommy's cheek, Adam released him. "You're something else, Tommy Joe."

Tommy blushed and reached up to tuck his bangs back behind his ear, even though they immediately fell forward again, as always. "Not really. I mean, anything for the performance, right? Gotta entertain the masses."

Adam stared into Tommy's eyes and had the feeling Tommy was trying to ask him something. Adam just wasn't sure what. 

Remembering Josh's warning about keeping his hands to himself when Tommy had come in for the callbacks and blown them away with how much he'd learned on bass in such a short time, Adam said, "If I go too far at any point or something I do makes you uncomfortable, I want you to promise to let me know, okay?" 

Tommy pulled his phone, which had been vibrating, out of his jeans and shrugged unconcernedly as he glanced down at it. "Sure, but you won't."

Adam stepped in close and curled a finger under Tommy's chin, tilting Tommy's face back up to his until their eyes met. "I mean it."

Tommy stared steadily at him and replied, "So do I."

For a long moment they stayed like that while Adam resisted the insane urge to lean in and kiss Tommy senseless. He got the impression from Tommy's expression that he wouldn't be opposed to the idea in the least. Adam wasn't really sure what to do with that, but he decided to figure it out later. Making the decision to go for it, Adam leaned in, tilting his head a little. Tommy did the same, but just before their lips met, one of the production assistants knocked on the door. 

"Adam! They're ready for you!"

" _Fuck_ ," Adam said, pulling back to look into Tommy's eyes again. "I think we need to talk."

Tommy visibly swallowed. "I think maybe you're right."

"After the shoot?" Adam asked, stepping back and dropping his hand from Tommy's chin.

Tommy winced. "Can't. Have this thing at my sister's."

"And I have a thing with my family the next night."

"What about after AMA rehearsals the next day?" Tommy suggested.

"Drake's having an art show and since we're trying to do the friends thing, he asked me to stop by and I said I would."

"Oh," Tommy said.

"Hey," Adam said, an idea popping into his head. "Why don't you come with me? For moral support. We could make an appearance and then go somewhere and talk afterwards."

Tommy nodded. "Sure. Sounds good."

Adam smiled just as someone yelled his name from the other side of the door, followed by someone else asking loudly where Tommy was. "Come on. If we don't get out there soon, they're going to launch a search party.”

Tommy chuckled, stepping forward. He slipped under Adam's outstretched arm and wrapped his own around Adam's waist as they headed for the door. "Dude, you know that's just, like, incentive for me to disappear for _hours_ , right?"

Adam laughed and hugged Tommy closer as they exited the dressing room together, feeling almost giddy. The look on Tommy's face when he agreed they needed to talk hadn't been an, _I'm not interested and need to find a way to tell you,_ look. It had been more of an, _I don't know where this is going, but I maybe kinda want to find out,_ look, and _that_ look… That look Adam could work with. That look meant Adam had a shot he didn't think he'd ever have with Tommy.


	7. Chapter 7

_American Music Awards, November 22, 2009…_

 

Tommy paced backstage, trying not to throw up as he waited for the band's cue to head out and set up. _Millions_ of people were going to be watching the performance. _Millions_. Tommy couldn't even imagine _thousands_ of people watching him perform. Scratch that. They'd be watching Adam perform. He had to hold on to that thought if he was going to make it through this without passing out. 

No one would be focused on him; they'd be focused on Adam. Hell, no one would probably even notice he was up there besides his friends and family. Except, that wasn't exactly true. Adam had made him part of the show. Adam was going to put the focus on him by walking up to him and yanking his hair, and Tommy, idiot that he was, had agreed to it. _Fuck_. 

It wasn't that he had a problem with Adam yanking his hair. In fact, if rehearsal was anything to go by, he actually kinda liked it. Okay, more than kinda. He really, _really_ liked it. Enough that he'd been worried about popping a boner. 

Tommy stopped pacing and sighed, leaning back against a nearby wall. Closing his eyes, he thought about the talk they were supposed to have had the night of Drake's art show. It hadn't happened because Adam had gotten drunk. He'd apologized as Tommy drove him home, but Tommy hadn't held it against him. 

The guy had the weight of his potential career squarely on his shoulders. If he needed to cut loose a night or two, who could blame him? Tommy certainly didn't. Fuck knows Adam was handling things way better than Tommy would ever hope to be able to if he was in his position. He'd figured they'd just have their talk the next night. Only, that didn't happen either. For the next several nights, Adam was either stuck making an appearance somewhere, or in meetings about upcoming appearances and the album, or the band was in rehearsals. 

And now … now it was the night of the AMAs and right afterwards they all had to fly out to New York City, so no time tonight again. And tomorrow started a whirlwind of performances and appearances and... Yeah. There wouldn't be any time for a talk then, either. 

The not knowing was killing Tommy. He didn't totally understand what was going on with him and Adam, but he knew there was _something_ there. So what if he'd never wanted a guy before? He'd been attracted to plenty of them. He'll, he'd had his first crush on a guy when he was fourteen. Gavin Rossdale. Lead singer of Bush. Tommy had crushed on him hard. 

So yeah, Tommy had always known he was a little bent. He just figured if he hadn't come across a guy he actually wanted to fuck by now, it wasn't going to happen, so somewhere along the way he'd started considering himself straight. Apparently, he'd been wrong. 

"Hey," Adam said, startling Tommy out of his thoughts. 

Straightening, Tommy opened his eyes and smiled nervously up at Adam. "Hey yourself, rockstar."

Adam snorted. "Hardly." He paused, staring down at Tommy for a minute before asking, "You okay?"

Tommy shrugged. "Just having a minor panic attack about performing in front of millions of viewers. Nothing major. You?"

Adam chuckled and leaned his shoulder against the wall next to Tommy. "Same. You'd think I'd be used to it after Idol, but…"

"This is different," Tommy supplied.

"Yeah," Adam said. 

Silently, they watched as people moved around them, flitting in and out of the room, all doing their part to make sure the show went smoothly. 

Without meaning to, Tommy blurted, "About the talk we were supposed to have the other night…"

When he trailed off, Adam glanced over at him, sadness flashing through his eyes. "You don't have to say it. I dragged you to my ex's art show and if that wasn't bad enough, I got drunk. Don't worry. I know I blew it."

Tommy's eyes widened. "Is that what you think?"

Adam tensed, studying Tommy intently. "You mean I didn't? I just thought…"

Tommy shook his head. "You didn't blow _anything_."

For a moment, Tommy was sure Adam was going to kiss him, but then a tech shouted for the band to get on stage and the moment was broken. 

"That's me," Tommy said, the panic he'd momentarily forgotten about rearing its ugly head again.

"Hey," Adam said, grabbing Tommy's arm when Tommy started to walk away. Tommy stopped and looked back at him expectantly. Adam smiled. "You're gonna be great out there. And when we get to New York, we're going to have that talk, even if it takes all night and the make-up guys have a bitch of a time making us look presentable for Letterman."

Tommy grinned. "You got it."

*

  


*

The performance was not going as planned, Adam thought, stomach sinking. His singing was off, for one, but he'd been in theatre since he was ten. He knew how to keep a performance face on. Thankfully, his dancers were good enough that they were able to adjust quickly whenever he went off script, but even they couldn’t cover for him when he tripped and fell on stage.

He rolled, trying to turn it into something that looked at least somewhat planned, but he had no idea how well he pulled it off. Putting it out of his head, Adam continued to sing, continued to move around the stage and hit his cues, but inside he was kicking his own ass, unable to believe he was screwing up so badly on such an important performance. 

And then he stepped up on the back part of the stage where the band was assembled and there was Tommy, right in front of him, like a beacon of light in a dark night thick with fog. He didn't even think before he grabbed him by the back of the head. He was supposed to pull his hair at that point, but he couldn't help himself. He leaned in for something else entirely, needing the connection, the reassurance that everything would be okay, that he hadn't just ruined his career before it got started. 

And then their lips met and something happened that took his breath away. Strange images flooded his head, like forgotten bits of dreams, only not. Like memories. Memories of a different childhood than the one he remembered, a different path to almost fame, a different life, a different time. 

A guy in a bar and a curse and a plane crash. Past lovers dying. One that didn't. 

Tommy. 

He remembered Tommy, but a different way. He remembered him sitting on the floor in a shadowy foyer, playing acoustic guitar. He remembered him spread out under him, naked, arching in pleasure. He remembered afterwards, too, waking and thinking Tommy was dead. He remembered leaving him to keep him safe. He remembered Brad and the coven and the spell. He remembered _everything_ in the space of a couple of heartbeats. 

Or maybe time was standing still. He couldn't tell. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. There wasn't even any sound. Everything was still and silent around him as he had his epiphany. And then time came crashing back in, loud and harsh and bright. Music filled the air around them and Adam realized they were still on stage, still in the middle of a show. 

He pulled out of the kiss and caught Tommy's eyes for a split second, seeing the confusion in them and wishing he had time to explain. Instead, he stepped away and finished out the song, trying to ignore the jumble of conflicting memories tumbling around inside his brain in favor of remembering the lyrics and the performance.

When the song ended, he was hurried off stage by a couple of techs, and before he could even catch his breath, he was surrounded by people from the label berating him for what he'd done on stage, asking him if he was trying to crash and burn his career before it even started. 

That last comment was a little too close to home for comfort, considering his just recovered memory of the plane crash, and he snapped. Fists balled up, he told them to leave him alone and give him a minute. When they ignored him and kept talking, Adam turned and walked away, looking for a quiet corner to shut out the world while he processed everything and tried to figure out what was real and what wasn't and whether or not he'd just lost his sanity entirely. 

He spotted Tommy leaning against a wall down the hall while people pushed past him. He looked shell shocked, and why wouldn't he? If all this was real and Adam hadn't just lost his mind, Tommy had just recovered memories from a spell he had no idea even existed. He had to be freaking out. 

Adam started for him, shrugging off the label guys who tried to stop him. Grabbing Tommy by the arm, Adam steered him into a room off to one side and closed the door on the world.

"What…" Tommy started, then shook his head, disbelief clear on his face. He looked up and met Adam's gaze, eyes pleading with Adam to help him. "I think someone slipped me something. I'm like, hallucinating or some shit. I'm having these insane memories that can't be memories because they didn't happen."

"You're not hallucinating," Adam said, trying to figure out how to explain to Tommy what he was still coming to terms with in his own head.

"Great," Tommy said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Then I'm crazy. They're going to lock me up and you'll have to get a new bassist and—"

Stepping forward, Adam shut him up with another kiss, this one filled with all the emotions his newly recovered memories brought along with them. Tommy remained tense for a second, then melted against him with a moan, tilting his head and opening for Adam's tongue. Adam licked into his mouth, kissing him thoroughly, until Tommy's knees buckled like they did on stage and Adam's were close to doing the same. 

Pulling out of the kiss, Adam stumbled backwards until his back hit the door, taking Tommy with him. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, trying to catch their breath and steady themselves.

Eventually, Adam asked, "Did that feel like you're crazy or hallucinating?"

Tommy licked his lips, wonder and confusion in his expression. "No."

"That's because it was real. All the memories that flooded your head when I kissed you up there happened."

Looking even more confused and more than a little skeptical, Tommy asked, "How?"

"The night I came to see you? When I asked you if you'd want us to be together someday if I could find a way?"

Tommy's eyes widened. "You remember that too? It really happened?"

"I do, and it did," Adam confirmed. Pulling Tommy back in for another kiss, Adam breathed against his mouth, "Tommy?"

"Yeah?" Tommy asked, lips moving against Adam's.

"I found a way."

This time it was Tommy who kissed Adam, pushing their mouths together more firmly, hands reaching up to cup Adam's head, pulling it down to meet his. Tommy pressed his tongue between Adam's lips and Adam opened to him, choking on the emotions flooding through him. Relief that Brad had been right and he and Tommy had found their way back to each other competed with gratitude toward Brad and the coven for making the whole thing possible. Both emotions however, paled in comparison to the love and joy he felt at having Tommy back in his arms. 

All too soon, the outside world interrupted their reunion, in the form of his manager, Lane, beating on his door.

Pulling his mouth from Tommy's, Adam said, "I'll be there in a minute!"

"Now Adam," Lane said firmly. "We have to deal with this now."

Adam groaned, forehead dropping forward to rest against Tommy's. "I wish there was a spell to make the whole world disappear."

Tommy chuckled. "Probably better that there isn't. You'd get some whacked-out witch having a bad day and poof."

Adam lifted his head and studied Tommy's face. "You're taking all this really well."

Tommy snorted. "Shows what you know. I'm freaking the fuck out right now," he said in an almost word-for-word quote of a comment he'd made the second time he'd shown up at the mansion, close to two years ago. The memories didn't feel like they were from that long ago, though. They felt recent. Like they had just lived them.

Adam laughed. "You hide it well."

Grinning, Tommy leaned up for another quick kiss, then backed off, breaking contact all together. "Go, deal with the fallout. When we hit New York, though, be prepared. I'm holding you to that all-nighter. I've got an assload of questions and I expect answers to each and every one of them."

Adam pulled Tommy in for a quick hug and kissed the top of his head, repeating Tommy's earlier answer, "You've got it," before releasing him and opening the door, ready to face the world, knowing he had Tommy back, this time for forever.

*

*

Tommy paced the hallway in front of Adam's New York City hotel suite, waiting for him to get there. He'd texted from the lobby to say he was on his way up, but that had been almost five minutes ago. What the fuck was taking so long?

Sighing, Tommy stopped pacing and leaned back against Adam's door. After being assured that he wasn't high or going insane, Tommy had spent the plane ride from LA processing the new memories, trying to make them make sense with what he'd thought had been real before. He had _so_ many questions. He would've loved to get them all answered on the plane ride, but he'd been left to himself to try to figure it all out since Lane had cancelled Adam's flight with them. She'd booked him on one an hour later to accommodate the last minute interviews he was being asked to do because of the performance. Tommy hadn't gotten very far figuring anything out. _All_ the memories felt real.

Finally, the elevator doors slid open with a ding and there was Adam, standing in front of him and holding one end of a rolling luggage cart. He was sans make-up, wearing a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt. He looked fucking gorgeous. 

For a long moment, neither of them moved, and then suddenly, as if a switch was flipped, they started for each other, meeting in the middle. Without even a hello, Tommy was in Adam's arms, kissing him for all he was worth as they stumbled backwards towards Adam's suite, trying to hold on to each other and the luggage cart at the same time. 

They stepped on each other's toes several times and banged into the wall twice by the time they made it to Adam's door. They both laughed as Adam tried to dig his keycard out of his pocket without letting go of Tommy. He finally managed it and then they practically fell into the room. Adam disengaged himself long enough to yank his luggage cart in with him and shut the door, and then he grabbed Tommy and spun him around, pushing him against the door as he kissed him thoroughly. 

When they both came up for air, Tommy started pulling at Adam's clothes. "Bed. Now."

Adam chuckled. "I thought you wanted answers."

"I do," Tommy said, mouthing along Adam's jaw at the same time that he shoved Adam's jacket down his arms. "Who says I can't have both at once?"

Adam groaned when Tommy latched onto a sensitive patch of skin just under his jaw and sucked up a mark. "Multitasking. I like the way you think."

It was Tommy's turn to chuckle as he pulled back, finally getting all the damn buttons on Adam's shirt undone. Shoving the shirt off Adam's shoulders, Tommy took a moment to appreciate all the pale freckled skin underneath. Skin he had thought he'd never get to touch again. 

Hands reached toward Tommy, pushing his jacket off his shoulders, then grabbed for the bottom edge of his shirt. Tommy lifted his arms over his head, and just like that he was half-naked.

"Whataya wanna know first?" Adam asked. 

"How'd you do it?" Tommy asked, reaching for the belt at Adam's waist.

While Tommy worked his belt and jeans open, Adam said, "You know Brad? My ex? He's not really my ex. He's a witch. His uncle was the one who cursed me. Brad and his coven tracked me down after I left Burbank with a plan to fix what his uncle did to me."

"So Brad and this coven removed the curse?" Tommy asked, going to his knees as he pushed Adam's jeans over his hips and down his legs.

Adam shook his head and stepped out of his jeans, moaning when Tommy mouthed him through his underwear. "Oh fuck. _Tommy,_ " Adam said, one hand going to the back of Tommy's head to hold him there.

Tommy curled his fingers in the waistband of Adam's underwear and looked up at him. "Keep talking."

Adam cursed, but when Tommy started to pull back, he said, "Okay! Um, what did you ask?"

Tommy grinned, rubbing his cheek over the damp fabric covering Adam's straining erection. "Asked if Brad and his coven removed the curse."

"N-no," Adam stuttered out when Tommy pulled his underwear down just enough to expose the head of his cock so he could lick it. "C-couldn't remove it, so they came up with a different spell. Erased my existence in the past and gave me a new set of memories."

Pulling Adam's underwear down to his thighs, Tommy sucked more of Adam's dick in his mouth. Momentarily distracted by having a cock in his mouth for the first time, Tommy concentrated on remembering what he liked when he got head.

"Oh God," Adam said. "So good."

Tommy sucked and licked Adam for several more minutes before he remembered Adam owed him answers. Pulling off, Tommy pressed a kiss into the hollow of Adam's hip, then stood. "So you didn't have your memories of us this whole time, either?"

"No," Adam said, hands going to work on Tommy's jeans. 

Together they shoved them down and off, underwear going with them, and then Tommy was as naked as Adam. They kissed again, bodies pressed together, before Adam slid an arm around Tommy's waist and started walking him toward the bedroom.

When Adam's mouth left Tommy's to attack his neck, Tommy moaned, then asked, "How far back does this go? Did you guys set it up so you and I would meet again?"

Adam tensed a little, alerting Tommy to the fact that he was reluctant to answer that one. Lifting his head from Tommy's neck, Adam stared nervously into Tommy's eyes and said, "No."

Tommy planted his feet just inside the doorway to the bedroom, halting their progress. "You had no idea if we'd ever meet again?"

"I was sure we would, but no, I didn't _know_."

Tommy stared into Adam's eyes, the fact that they were both naked and pressed together fading to the background as he tried to understand why Adam had taken a chance like that. "Why were you so sure?"

"Brad. He said we were wrong. You didn't live that night because we didn't have a happily ever after to look forward to. You lived because what's between us… Let's just say true love is the only thing stronger than the curse. And since that's the case, I had to believe we'd find each other again. And we did."

Tommy absorbed that and smiled. "We did."

Adam returned the smile and then they were kissing again and moving deeper into the room. Just as Adam grabbed Tommy's ass and squeezed, they reached the bed. With a thud, Adam fell back on it, taking Tommy with him and then they were lying on it, Tommy on top of Adam, both of them trying to scramble fully on it while still kissing. They ended up nearly causing each other bodily injury before they accepted defeat and parted lips, cracking up as they disentangled themselves and scooted up the bed. 

"I'm usually more coordinated than this, even without the demon," Adam said between fits of laughter.

Grinning, Tommy shoved Adam down onto his back and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. "Sure, Lambert. That's what they all say." Leaning in, Tommy licked at a nipple, then asked, "So Leila and Eber and Neil … they're not really your family?"

Adam looked down his chest at Tommy, one eyebrow cocked. "Do we really need to discuss them _now_?"

Tommy nipped at the peaked nipple he'd just licked and grinned when Adam yelped. "Multitasking, remember? A few minutes ago you liked the idea."

"I must've been fucked in the head," Adam grumbled. Tommy bit his nipple again and Adam squirmed under him. "Okay! Yes and no. Leila was my sister … before. Neil was her only child. My nephew. It was easier for Brad to create a family bond between all of us if there was already something there to base it on. Eber… It just made sense to make him my dad since he was already Neil's."

"Hmm," Tommy hummed, moving on to Adam's other nipple. Giving it a quick swipe, he asked, "Did their real memories come back when ours did? Did everyone's?"

Adam growled and before Tommy knew what was happening, he found himself rolled onto his back, Adam's body pinning him to the mattress. "No. No one has their memories but you and I, Brad and the coven. Brad designed it that way so that if you and I ever met up and got close enough to fall in love again and break through the spell the way we broke through the death curse, he and the coven would be aware of what was going on in case they needed to intercede to fix anything. And before you ask, I know that because he called before I left LA to tell me and to make sure everything was all right." Exasperated, Adam finished by asking, "Are we done now?"

Tommy smirked and rolled his hips up against Adam's, sliding their cocks together. "I dunno. I have _lots_ of questions yet. Could take all night."

Groaning, Adam braced himself above Tommy and stared intently at him. "Fine. Good luck getting the questions out, though."

"What—" Tommy started, only to arch off the bed and cry out in surprised pleasure as Adam quickly slid down the bed and engulfed him. 

Tommy's cock hit the back of Adam's throat and he felt Adam gag from taking too much too fast. A wave of heat rolled through Tommy's body and he felt his dick start to throb in Adam's mouth.

"Oh fuck," Tommy said brokenly, remembering how fast Adam had made him come the last time he'd blown him. 

Still, Adam had more or less issued a challenge and Tommy wasn't one to back down from one of those, so even though Adam was sucking him like a pro, Tommy did his damnedest to remember what else he wanted to know.

Desperately, Tommy reached for Adam's head, trying to pull him off so he could catch his breath and fucking _think_ , but Adam just caught his wrists and pressed them to the bed, pinning Tommy down. 

So turned on he was nearly vibrating, Tommy panted, "What about Idol, did that really happen?"

Pulling off, Adam said roughly, "Yes. The only timeframe that has false memories as far as you're concerned was between the night we met and the night I came to you asking if you'd want to be with me if I found a way to make it happen."

"But—" Tommy started, only to get cut off when Adam growled and grabbed at his hips, flipping Tommy onto his stomach. 

Before Tommy could even wonder what he planned to do, Adam had his legs spread and he was once again settled between them. Tommy stiffened in shock when Adam spread his ass cheeks apart and licked over his hole. 

"Ad—" he broke off on a gasp as Adam did it again and tried again. "Adam, what…"

"Don't tell me you don't know what rimming is," Adam said between licks. 

"I—oh _fuck_ —I fucking well know what rimming is," Tommy managed to gasp out, because he did know. He'd just never had it done to him before.

"Then shut up and enjoy it," Adam said, a hint of exasperation mixed with amusement in his voice.

"Fu—" Tommy broke off on a chuckle mixed with a groan as Adam's tongue breached him. "Fuck you."

Adam pulled his mouth away and slid a finger inside Tommy. "Maybe next time. Tonight I'm going to bury myself so deep inside you that you forget your own name, let alone all your questions."

Tommy pushed back onto Adam's fingers and Adam's tongue joined in, licking around his stretched hole. "Give it your best shot, Lambert."

And Adam did, sliding another finger inside before removing both of them and pushing his tongue in Tommy's stretched opening. It felt strange and amazing all at once and it wasn't long before Tommy was reaching down to fist himself, needing relief from the relentless pleasure gripping him. 

"Oh no you don't," Adam said, pulling back. "Hands on the mattress. I wanna feel you come on my cock."

"Then fuck me already," Tommy whined, dutifully grabbing at the sheets instead of his dick. 

"Thought you'd never ask," Adam said smugly. With a smack to Tommy's ass that made Tommy yelp in indignation and turned him the fuck on all at the same time, Adam hopped off the bed. "Be right back."

Tommy watched over his shoulder as Adam hurried from the room, returning a moment later with condoms and lube. Tossing them on the bed next to Tommy, Adam climbed back on and settled back on his heels between Tommy's legs. 

The brief respite had been enough for Tommy to gather his thoughts, so when Adam slicked up his fingers and pressed them back in, Tommy moaned, then asked, "So you're mortal now, right? No more demon?"

Adam braced himself with one hand next to Tommy's head and leaned over him, pressing a kiss to Tommy's shoulder. "Totally and completely human," he said, thrusting his fingers in and out of Tommy's ass. "Brad didn't cover it up or take it away. He literally erased my existence from the seventies and transplanted me here. The curse and the demon never happened."

Tommy whimpered as Adam rubbed over his prostate again and again, obviously trying to drive him out of his fucking mind. Desperately, he clung to the thought that had popped into his head. Somehow he managed to spit it out between panting for air and moaning from pleasure. "If it n-never happened, does that m-make the memories we have—Oh _fuck yeah_ , right there— from before false? Does th-that make this my first time?"

Adam paused at the question and Tommy almost regretted asking. Almost. He needed to know, needed to understand what the fuck was going on. He wanted to know what was real and what wasn't.

"I have no idea," Adam said, picking up where he left off, fingers fucking into Tommy mercilessly.

"Oh shit," Tommy said, forehead dropping to the mattress as his cock jerked and leaked, balls tingling. "If you want me to come on your dick, you'd better hurry up."

Adam's fingers disappeared from Tommy's ass and he whimpered at the loss. In record time, Adam sheathed and slicked himself up, then positioned himself. Tommy sucked in a sharp breath as Adam breached him, realizing it didn't matter in the slightest if this was technically their first time or not. It only mattered that it wasn't going to be their last, not by a long shot. They had a whole lifetime together. 

"Adam," Tommy gasped desperately, needing something, anything, to ground him, to keep him from feeling like he was spinning out of control.

"I got you," Adam said, face suddenly next to Tommy's ear, arm sliding around Tommy's chest, pulling back, pulling up, until Tommy's back was pressed to Adam's chest and they were upright, Tommy straddling Adam's lap. Tommy's head dropped back on Adam's shoulder as Adam's cock sank deeper and deeper inside him until he was so deep Tommy couldn't tell where he ended and Adam began. 

Tears sprang to Tommy's eyes and he choked on a sob, the emotions and memories and sensations his body was feeling too overwhelming for him to handle all at once.

"Shh," Adam said, arm braced across Tommy's midsection, his free hand caressing Tommy's thigh, his hip, his side, his arm. "I’m right here."

Tommy lifted his head and shook it. "Too much."

Adam mouthed along the side of Tommy's neck, fingers scratching lightly over Tommy's stomach, the back of his hand brushing against Tommy's dick. "Just let go, baby. I've got you."

Tommy relaxed into Adam's hold, into his touch, into his words, and moaned as pleasure and need and love swirled through him, sinking into every fiber of his being. It felt like magic. And then Adam started rolling his hips and Tommy blanked out, moving on instinct; feeling, not thinking, as Adam guided him up and down on his cock, thrusting up every time Tommy sank down. 

The pleasure it created was more than Tommy could handle and he shattered apart in Adam's arms, his orgasm almost secondary to the wave of molten heat that rushed through him, leaving him feeling like he was literally burning up from the inside out. 

Vaguely, he heard Adam groan into his neck, and then he was falling forward in slow motion until he felt the mattress under him. He moaned with pleasure and _toomuch_ when Adam pulled out and rolled him over, then spread him wide and thrust back in, taking him fast and hard until finally, with one last thrust, Adam stilled, crying out Tommy's name.

Afterwards, Adam collapsed down onto one elbow above him, his other hand rubbing up and down Tommy's side, almost as if he was trying to comfort him. Tommy was grateful for the grounding gesture.

Long minutes later they separated long enough for Adam to roll on his back and Tommy to snuggle up against him, head cradled in the crook of Adam's arm, hands laced together, one set over Tommy's shoulder, the other over Tommy's stomach. 

"Can't believe I forgot you for so long," Tommy said, staring up at the ceiling. "Forgot this."

Adam nuzzled into the side of Tommy's head and said, "We didn't forget, though. At least I didn't. I didn't have my memories of you, but when we met … I knew. There was something there. And when you walked out of that room … I couldn't let you go. I had to go after you, make sure you were in my life. It was like my soul knew what my head didn't."

Tommy nodded. "Me too. It killed me to walk out of there. Every step of the way toward my car I had to keep convincing myself not to turn around and run back inside." Tommy paused, thinking about how he'd felt when he'd met Adam at the mansion, the pull he'd felt then, too. Frowning, he asked, "Do you think this was the first time?"

Under his head, Tommy felt Adam shrug. "I told you, I have no idea. I could ask Brad but… I'm betting it's not cut and dry."

Shaking his head against Adam's shoulder, Tommy said, "No, not the sex. I mean the spell. I remember feeling a pull toward you when you were in the mansion, too. I couldn't stay away then, either. Do you think…" He trailed off, not even sure what he thought, let alone how to ask it.

Apparently Adam understood, though, because he said, "I think so. I mean, a _kiss_ broke that part of the spell this time. I think we would've at least remembered during the sex last time. I think the pull was just because we were meant to be together."

Tommy grinned up at the ceiling. "I think so too." They fell silent for a moment, and then Tommy snorted. "Magic. I can't believe that shit's actually real. I mean, I know it is, I felt it, but I still can't believe it."

Adam chuckled. "It's totally fucking with your atheism, huh? If it helps at all, I don't think it means there's a god or anything. Just … energy floating around that some people at some point in time figured out how to harness."

Twisting around until he was mostly on his stomach, chin cushioned on a hand he'd placed on Adam's chest, over his heart, Tommy stared up at Adam. "What about the demon?"

Adam shrugged. "The demon was…" He trailed off and shuddered. "It was ugly. And I don't mean the way it made me look physically. I mean that it was everything that's ugly in this world. I read up on the different theories over the years and the one I came across that felt the most right was that demons are a byproduct of negative energy. Put enough of it out there, it eventually concentrates and takes form."

Tommy shuddered. Sliding his hand to the side for a second, he pressed a kiss to Adam's chest, then moved his hand back to cushion his head. "I'm glad it's gone. I would've loved you, though, even with it."

Reaching out to brush a lock of hair off Tommy's face, Adam smiled and said softly, "I know. You told me that night, in your sleep. You told me you loved me."

Tommy smiled back. "I did?" He hesitated, then asked shyly, "Did you say it back?"

Sadness filled Adam's eyes. "No. I was too busy panicking that you were going to die because of me. I could only think about getting as far away from you as possible in the hopes it would save your life."

Tommy bit his bottom lip as he remembered waking up alone. "I know it was what we'd talked about, but I was so fucking miserable when I woke up that morning and you weren't there."

"Hey," Adam said, cupping the side of Tommy's face and urging him up and half over him, until they were able to brush a soft kiss against each other's lips. "We're together now and nothing— _nothing_ —is going to come between us again."

Tommy held Adam's clear blue gaze for a long moment, then leaned in and kissed him again, trying to convey everything he couldn’t quite put into words.

"I love you," Adam said, between kisses. 

"Love you too," Tommy said. 

For long minutes they got lost in lazy kisses and skin pressed against skin; hands caressing without any true intent other than to reconnect. When they eventually came up for air they were on their sides facing each other.

Adam reached up and cupped the side of Tommy's face, thumb rubbing over Tommy's bottom lip as he said, "Thank you."

Tommy smiled against Adam's thumb. "What? For the mind-blowing sex? You're welcome, but you don't need to thank me. I mean it."

Adam huffed out a soft laugh. "No, although thank you for that, too." Holding Tommy's gaze, Adam said seriously, "Thank you for saving me."

Confused, Tommy asked, "What? How'd I do that?"

"You found the courage to be with me," Adam said. "Before, I mean. You knew you were risking your life if you were wrong about the curse and you took the chance anyway."

Sensing there was more, Tommy remained silent and reached up, covering Adam's hand with his. 

"We lit up all of Burbank that night," Adam said, a smile gracing his lips.

Tommy chuckled a little, sure Adam was joking, but when Adam didn't so much as crack a small grin, the smile dropped from Tommy's face and he said, "Seriously?"

Adam nodded, pulling his hand away from Tommy's face. Taking Tommy's with it, he tangled their fingers together between them. "Seriously. That's how Brad and the coven found us. Sex magic."

"So," Tommy said, trying to absorb that. "Every time we fuck, everyone magically inclined within, what, a ten mile radius, is going to know it?"

Adam laughed. "I hope not. They were scrying for me that night. Trying to find me on a map. When we had sex, it was the first time they were able to find me."

"Wow," Tommy said.

Smile dropping from Adam's face, he said soberly, "They hadn't been able to find me before that because the demon was too strong. It had taken over too much of me. But when you and I came together … it brought _me_ back to the surface. The human me. It made it possible for them to locate me. If you hadn't come to me that night and refused to take no for an answer, I'd still be stuck living that miserable existence." Squeezing Tommy's hand, Adam stared into his eyes and said, "You saved me."

A lump formed in Tommy's throat as Adam's blue eyes watered. Too choked with emotion to speak, Tommy leaned in and kissed him instead. Afterwards, he curled in against Adam's side, a peace filling him that he'd been searching for and not finding for most of his life. 

Just before he drifted off, he said quietly, "Pretty sure we saved each other."

 

#### -THE END


End file.
